<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bleach is Good for (Blood) Stains by RueShe</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29481489">Bleach is Good for (Blood) Stains</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueShe/pseuds/RueShe'>RueShe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blood // Magic [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bounty Hunters, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background IwaOi - Freeform, Background Kuroken - Freeform, Bigotry &amp; Prejudice, Blood and Gore, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Horror, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, POV Alternating, Past Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Temporary Character Death, Violence, background bokuaka - Freeform, background osasuna - Freeform, injuries, sakuatsu adopt a kid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:53:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>114,834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29481489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueShe/pseuds/RueShe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“No.”<br/>“Ya haven’t even met him yet."<br/>“And I’m not gonna, ‘Samu. Ya can’t make me do jack shit.” Atsumu flicked a balled up piece of napkin at his brother. It hit his shoulder and bounced onto the floor. Neither of them picked it up.<br/>“Well, it’s not up to you,” Osamu said, gesturing to the glass doors of the cafe where a tall man was just reaching to open the door. “There he is.”<br/>Or:</p><p>Atsumu and Sakusa are reluctant partners, but then they fall in love - because of course they do.</p><p>updates weekly! on fridays</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blood // Magic [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2224029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Miya Atsumu could totally talk to rocks, shut up Osamu.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! So, this is new for me. I'll try to update weekly. I have no idea whether this story will be interesting to people, so stick around if you want to, I guess?</p><p>A little bit of world building, a bit of angst, some adventure and stuff, fun magics, idk. Accidental societal commentary, probably? :) Welcome!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya haven’t even met him yet,” Osamu said with a poorly-hidden eye roll.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’m not gonna, ‘Samu. Ya can’t make me do jack shit.” Atsumu flicked a balled up piece of napkin at his brother. It hit his shoulder and bounced onto the floor. Neither of them picked it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not up to you,” Osamu said, gesturing to the glass doors of the cafe where a tall man was just reaching to open the door. “There he is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes bugged and he sat up quickly, un-slouching his whole body from where it had been comfortably strewn all over the chair. “‘Samu, what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” In his quiet scramble, his elbow caught his coffee cup and would have punted it across the room if Osamu hadn’t caught it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told ya</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I don’t wanna work with anyone, I’m doin’ great!” Atsumu whispered, eyes tracking the man as he walked over to the table. “I hate you. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I hate--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Sakusa, good mornin’,” Osamu interrupted, standing to shake the man--Sakusa’s--hand. Atsumu turned to get his first good look at the man. His hair was styled into an undercut, with curls covering the tops of his ears and framing his face. Ooh, it was a nice face. Was that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>face tattoo--</span>
  </em>
  <span>wait, no, shut up Atsumu. They’re obviously moles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s with the mask?” Atsumu asked, interrupting whatever the other two were talking about with his apparent lack of filter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu got chills from how similar the two judgmental looks suddenly aimed at him were. Sheesh, okay. Feeling suddenly like an insolent child for ignoring the new guy, Atsumu kicked the legs of the chair next to him and nodded to it. Sakusa raised an eyebrow, but sat nonetheless. Up close, his eyes were just as dark as they’d seemed. His skin was smooth, and Atsumu realized with slight irritation that the man was a bit taller than he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was surprised at how much facial expression the man could fit in just the uncovered half of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa sat a little hunched, like he wanted to somehow take up less space, which seemed impossible given how tall he was. Even the slouch was kinda attractive, but Atsumu tried to look aloof about it all. Fingers snapped in front of Atsumu’s face, and he rounded on Osamu with an irritated sneer. “Oi, pay attention, dumbass,” Osamu said and Atsumu tried not to flush at the realization that he’d been zoning out staring at the new guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Sakusa Kiyoomi, yer new partner,” Osamu continued. Atsumu fought the urge to wrinkle his nose in distaste. Not at the guy, who seemed fine if a bit closed off, but at the idea of having to work with anybody at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“”Tsumu has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Osamu said, as if that explained jack shit to the new guy, “About working with other people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I just--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, which is why I wouldn’t ask just anybody. Sakusa here’s the best of the best, aintcha, Sakusa?” At this, Sakusa glanced at Atsumu and rolled his shoulders back slightly. Atsumu could see cords of muscle shift under his long-sleeve shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never failed a job, if that’s what you mean,” Sakusa finally spoke. His voice was distracting in a way that made Atsumu have trouble paying attention to what he actually said, but once he did, he sat up in surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way?” He asked, curious despite his earlier decision to remain aloof--aloof!--for as long as he could. Completing every job was rare, in their line of work. No matter how good you were at tracking people down, or how physically adept, some bounties were just impossible to collect. Especially in this age of modern magic, it wasn’t unusual to get a bounty on someone with an invisibility power or some other bullshit. Whatever feelings Atsumu had towards this stranger, his capabilities were clearly impressive. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been a bounty hunter since I was sixteen,” Sakusa explained. “Ten years so far and nobody’s gotten away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hot damn, sir. Atsumu felt a flare of competition in his throat but even he knew he couldn’t compete with that. Not only had Atsumu been a bounty hunter for less time, he’d also had some notable failures that still frustrated him when he caught himself overthinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu whistled. “See, what’d I tell ya? Try not to slow him down, loser.” Osamu reached out to ruffle Atsumu’s hair, but Atsumu smacked his hand away with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell that to him, not me!” Atsumu whipped a hand into Osamu’s ribs from across the table and cackled as Osamu wheezed. Sakusa looked extremely unimpressed with their antics, but he was still sitting there, so Atsumu figured he had some level of tolerance for assholery. Atsumu planned to test that tolerance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m confident I won’t be the one dragging,” Sakusa said, leveling a lazy glare at Atsumu and--hey, don’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Just as Atsumu was narrowing his eyes for a comeback, Osamu spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa requested a trial run before the actual big job,” he explained, and Atsumu had to admit that it was a good idea. “So, I found one that should be easy.” It was a jewelry theft, clean and simple. Some diamond necklaces floated out of their case and through the door, but nobody had seen the thief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People like Atsumu called themselves bounty hunters, and that wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>untrue</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but it was also a little different than how traditional bounties worked. As in, the bounties weren’t always, ah, legal? It went like this: some anonymous person would post a bounty on somebody they wanted found. Sometimes it was for the law, sometimes it wasn’t. Atsumu either presented proof of death, if that was the wish, or dropped the person at a specific location. The money sat in a third-party account until proof was given, then was transferred automatically. That way neither could drop their end of the bargain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a good gig. It paid well for sure, but the part Atsumu valued the most was how never-boring it was. But it could also be very dangerous, obviously, and Atsumu didn’t like the idea of having to be responsible for somebody in the field. Especially after last time. He felt his features twist into a pained grimace at the memory before he focused his attention on his brother again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Technically, he could find the bounties himself, he didn’t need Osamu to do it for him. But Osamu had a better head for these things, and had saved Atsumu’s ass more than once with his freaky intuition about jobs. Osamu didn’t have future sight necessarily, but his hunches were always right when they came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of, “Hey Omi, do you have magic?” Oops, he hadn’t really meant it to come out that way. Especially since it had obviously interrupted the other two talking. God, he needed to get better at paying attention. But honestly, he’d had a lifetime of listening to his brother’s droll ramblings--he probably hadn’t missed much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” was Sakusa’s response. “My name isn’t--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi, like Kiyoomi, get it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi pinched the bridge of his nose. “I get it,” he sighed, “But you can’t just--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi it is, then!” Okay, Atsumu knew he was being a bit of a prick but he didn’t think he’d actually crossed any lines yet. His life mission was to get as close to the line between “obnoxious” and “offensive” without actually going over it. He only sometimes succeeded. “So do you?” Atsumu asked again, leaning a little closer to Omi. Omi leaned back accordingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some,” he said--</span>
  <em>
    <span>okay, and?--</span>
  </em>
  <span>and seemed to decide that it wouldn’t hurt to share more considering they were supposed to be partners. “I can teleport. Sort of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaddaya mean ‘sort of’?” Osamu was looking interested now, too, perhaps he hadn’t known this about Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi let out a put-upon sounding huff and elaborated. “I can teleport to places I’ve already been, but they can’t be too far away and I can’t take anyone with me. And if I do it too much, or too far, I get nosebleeds.” Omi looked uncomfortable sharing this much information, by the stiff set of his shoulders. But he’d answered the question, which Atsumu appreciated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool! I can talk to rocks,” Atsumu offered in return. Osamu snorted into his coffee and spent a few seconds coughing the hot liquid out of his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s debatable, actually.” Osamu said, and ignored Atsumu’s indignant cry. “We could never tell if he actually could or if he just made it up ‘cause he wanted to be special.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>prick</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>so could</span>
  </em>
  <span> talk to rocks! Atsumu tried to throw more trash at his brother, but he caught the crumpled up napkin with a haughty smile before it could hit his face. Bastard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m sure that will come in very useful,” Omi said with a quiet laugh and--okay, we’re gonna ignore that that was cute--how </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> he, talking to rocks could totally be useful. Maybe not as useful as teleportation, but not everybody could be so blessed. Atsumu hoped his rock speaking abilities would be helpful in the future  if only for the vindication.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu was still laughing at his own comment, but the follow-up from Omi made him downright giggle. It was a horrible sound and Atsumu hated that his own laugh was probably identical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we finished?” Omi asked, ignoring Atsumu’s pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu nodded. “Yep, you know what I know. Should be easy. Don’t let Atsumu do anything stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure I could stop him if he tried. Stupid seems like the norm for him,” Omi replied with amused eyes. Atsumu couldn’t decide if Omi was teasing or actually being mean but either way, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not fair</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they only just met, how dare he make such an accurate statement already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until Osamu and Omi left, shortly after, that Atsumu let his grin fall. He stared at the ring of coffee on the table left behind by his jostled cup. He thought of screaming and explosions and the way fire had reflected, glistening, off of so many turbulent waves that night. Omi seemed strong, but Hinata had been too. He hoped Osamu knew just what he was pushing Atsumu into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, well. It’s not like he really knew the guy anyway. He didn’t want any blood on his conscience, sure, but he cared less about the fate of this stranger than he would if he actually knew the guy. By the time he left the coffee shop, with scone tucked into a napkin in his pocket, his hands had stopped shaking and the scent of smoke was fading, replaced by the wet smell of spring rainwater in the gutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pulled his phone out of his scone-less pocket and scrolled through his recent calls. Suna picked up on the third ring. “Yo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Suna. Osamu back yet?” Atsumu didn’t know how long he’d sat alone in the coffee shop, but Osamu and his boyfriend lived pretty close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Suna muttered, sounding distracted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He tell you the job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, need me to ask around?” Suna asked. Having dubious ties to the city’s underground frequently came in handy for Atsumu. He didn’t know the full extent of his boyfriend-in-law’s relationship to the criminals of the city, and he didn’t really want to ask. Whatever the story, Suna’s knowledge was invaluable to Atsumu. Besides, Atsumu didn’t think Osamu was the type to shack up with a truly problematic guy, gray morality notwithstanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tha’d be great,” Atsumu replied around a mouthful of scone. He’d been planning on saving it for later but the weight of it in his pocket finally convinced him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mkay, I’ll get back to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks man,” Atsumu started to say, but Suna had hung up before he got it all out. Rude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was just finishing the scone when he ducked under the dirty awning of the boxing gym. Inside was pretty dark, mostly illuminated by the high windows that spread dust-filtered light through the space. The ring in the middle was empty, but there were a couple guys spread around the equipment and the drumming of somebody on the speed bag broke up the laze atmosphere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu found Iwaizumi jumping rope with his back to the mirror, the whistle of the thin rope like a blade cutting through the air. Sweat dripped down his clavicle and between his pecs into his muscle tank. His arms bulged with each movement, the veins visible from strain. Atsumu didn’t even feel ashamed at the quick arousal that jolted through him--he knew Oikawa liked it when other people thought his husband was hot--but he didn’t want to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span> so he looked away. Iwaizumi laughed a little, an amused smirk lighting his face, having caught Atsumu’s eye right before he averted his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sup, Atsumu,” he greeted when Atsumu got close enough. He stilled and set his rope down, switching to stretches instead. Not that that was any less attractive, though. Atsumu cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, sup Iwa,” he responded. Honestly, just being in the gym was starting to help. He felt less jittery, less afloat, and infinitely more comfortable in this space. Atsumu just jerked his head towards the ring in response to Iwaizumi’s questioning look and received a quick nod in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Warm up first and I’ll meet you over there in a few,” Iwaizumi offered. He bent to roll up his rope (god even his ass was so well-muscled) and headed over to some younger guys that evidently needed a reminder to spot each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had found Iwaizumi’s gym shortly after the Incident, full of rage and despair and the burning need to hit something. He got even more than he’d been looking for, though, in the form of Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s quiet support--whether it was sparring with Iwaizumi or drunk-crying over morning mimosas with Oikawa and getting kicked out of their favorite brunch place. (They were allowed back in the next week, after an apology and a gift basket). (Suga could be very forgiving, for the price of fancy chocolate).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwa’s gym was a sort of refuge for all kinds of people, so long as they abided by the sharpie-drawn rules hung by the door. “No drinking” was the most recent addition, which had physically pained Iwa to add. “How is that not a given,” he’d gritted out, eyebrows drawn dangerously low over his eyebrows as some poor college kid mopped up his own vomit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu did his warmups and slipped through the ropes into the ring to wait for Iwa, who was just making his way over after giving the younger guys a lecture that had probably involved a solid head-noogie. Iwa was cute like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ymir’s teaching that self-defense class in like an hour,” Iwaizumi said as he joined Atsumu. “But we have until then for me to kick your ass.” The smirk Iwaizumi sent Atsumu’s way had his heart rate kicking up in anticipation for the fight. Well, it wouldn’t really be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But his body didn’t know that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A glove tap started them off, and Atsumu’s brain fizzled into the background as he lost himself in the feeling of his body, the intermittent pain, and the smell of sweat between them. Boxing was the reprieve Atsumu had never known he needed until he found himself in the gym every day. Sometimes he wanted somebody to beat the shit out of him, sometimes he needed to hit until his knuckles and wrists ached. Either way, the gym always provided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of laughter, high-pitched and heavenly, was what alerted Atsumu to the fact that the self-defense group had arrived. That was okay, he was tired enough by now and the well-used ache to his muscles felt like bliss. By the door, Ymir leaned against the wall with one arm and towered over a short blond woman who laughed again. Atsumu watched Ymir duck her head with a blush. Oh, so that was adorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ymir could be kind of a hardass, as far from the feminine stereotype as one could get. She could go toe-to-toe with the best of the guys in the gym and generally had little patience for idiots. That being said, Atsumu knew she had a heart of gold--she was like Iwaizumi that way, and they worked well together. It was about time somebody lightened her up, Atsumu mused as he exited the ring and pulled his gloves off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwa-chaaaaan~” came a caramel voice from the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit,” Atsumu heard Iwa mumble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you forget me?? Iwaaaaa!” Oikawa stalked over to his husband. His cheeks were flushed even though it wasn’t very cold out, and his hands were balled in his jacket pockets. He walked right up to Iwa, who was still making a guilty expression, and smacked his forehead right against Iwa’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow, Shittykawa, what the fuck?!” Iwa rubbed at the red circle on his forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were supposed to pick me up,” Oikawa said with an enormous pout. His own forehead was turning red as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu watched the whole encounter with a mix of amusement and fondness. He used to be envious of their relationship, freshly alone as he’d been, but now he just enjoyed witnessing their weirdness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Atsumu said, stepping in, “That’s my bad. I wanted to hit somethin’ and Iwa was right there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa turned to him with delight. “Well that’s okay, then! You still could have texted me,” he pouted at Iwa, who flicked Oikawa’s cheek. “Iwa-chan, so meeean!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna called back while Atsumu was walking home. “It’s not much, but I found the fence the guy tried to use. I’ll send you her address and you can figure the rest out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaddaya mean ‘tried’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He contacted her and never showed up. She’ll tell you the rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oka--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also, Osamu wants you to come over for dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna hung up before Atsumu could respond. Dick. At least he answered the phone when Atsumu called, and called in return. That was about the best he could hope for from his brother’s boyfriend who could barely be asked to maintain any sort of prosociality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d showered at the gym and changed, which meant he didn’t have to go home before heading to theirs, so he just altered his path to take him there, only stopping to pick up some his brother’s favorite mochi--he wasn’t a terrible brother all the time, and Osamu did more than his share of cooking for the both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was starting to get a little cold out. The alleys Atsumu took were quiet enough that he could hear his feet scuffing on the ground, echoing off the tall buildings. He shivered a little, glad to have grabbed his jacket at the gym, and tucked his hands into his pockets. It had rained earlier that morning so there was leftover water in some of the mossy gutters, but the clouds were gone now. He hoped it would rain tomorrow, too, and that he’d be able to wake up to the sound of it on his window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking into their apartment felt like coming home, if home were people and not the place. And if “home” meant being only peripherally involved but loved nonetheless. Okay, so it didn’t really feel like home, but the lights were soft and it was warm inside and Suna was giggling when Atsumu pushed open the door--a rare sound--and the whole place smelled divine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey losers,” Atsumu called, just to be a jackass, while he toed off his sneakers by the door. “Chew up anythin’ else since last time I was here, Suna?” Atsumu asked, stepping up the jackassery a notch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a dog,” Suna replied and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that wasn’t an answer</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close enough!” Atsumu cackled, “And is that a yes? ‘Samu, was it the toilet paper again?” Last time Atsumu had been over, Suna--in fox form--had ripped up a whole package of it, much to Atsumu’s delight. Atsumu planned to make fun of him for it for the rest of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna only sent a lazy glare from where he was sitting on the counter when Atsumu rounded the corner into the kitchen. The look was softened by the disgustingly fond face Suna always had when Osamu was within touching distance. Osamu was standing between Suna’s legs, close but not close enough to have been doing anything Atsumu needed to worry about interrupting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna still didn’t answer his question--okay but now he was really curious--he just leaned forward to rest his cheek on Osamu’s head and lifted a hand in a lazy wave to Atsumu, who quickly hung the bag of mochi on Suna’s hand. “Gimme,” Osamu said, pulling the bag from Suna--who looked disgruntled at having had to hold it at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks ‘Tsumu,” Osamu said, stuffing a whole strawberry mochi into his mouth as if he weren’t minutes away from eating dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To someone who didn’t know Osamu, it might seem weird that he--a professional chef--enjoyed cooking even when he wasn’t working, but Atsumu knew better. Not only did his brother never get tired of cooking, his favorite part was being able to share his food with the people he loved. It was awfully convenient for Atsumu, who’d recently realized he had to do better than ramen and takeout if he were to avoid another epic fight with his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ate clustered in the kitchen, Osamu standing and the other two sitting on the counter, and for a while it felt like old times, like before Atsumu had trouble sleeping and was plagued by nightmares even when he could. Before he knew the limits of his own power, the fragile mortality of every single person he loved, and what it felt like to scream until his voice gave out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safe. It felt safe, and warm, and Atsumu had to quell the ridiculous urge to cry into his yakisoba when he saw Osamu tip his head back to laugh at something Suna said and the way Suna’s eyes glittered in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked home under the stars, the soft scrapes of his footfalls now muted by the fog that had started to roll in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In bed that night, Atsumu pulled up Omi’s contact. He’d set the profile picture to a grumpy lemon, which seemed funny at the time, but didn’t so much anymore. Tomorrow they’d start for real, even if it was just a trial run. He should have asked if Osamu had told him about the big job, the one Atsumu had been thinking about for over a year. He wanted to make sure Omi knew what he was getting into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There would be time for all of that tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as he wanted to do it alone, however, it was too big a job for one guy; even he knew that. It didn’t mean he had to like it. As long as Omi didn’t grow on him, they’d be fine. He didn’t need any distractions, and giving more than a shit about his partner was the best way to fuck up. He knew that. All he had to do was be his obnoxious self and there would be no chance of friendship between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the guy already though. More specifically, he could appreciate how tight Omi’s sleeves had stretched over his biceps, the kind of biceps that could easily support Atsumu’s weight. And his hands, big and bony, that could fit under Atsumu’s thighs as he was pinned against a wall by that strong body, legs around Omi’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he didn’t feel guilty for a second for using his new partner’s body for masturbation fantasy--what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, Atsumu figured, slipping the band of his boxers down over his hips to release his half-hard cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His apartment was plenty warm, but that didn’t stop the shiver the fresh air caused when it tickled over his newly exposed skin. He stroked himself to full hardness, grabbed the lube, and closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t seem very vocal, probably wouldn’t moan a lot during sex, but Atsumu could imagine heavy breaths in his ear and the phantom scrape of teeth at the hinge of his jaw. The sharp smack of hips would drive his own pelvis back into the wall, but the pain wouldn’t be enough to detract from the slick slide of Omi inside him, maybe dropping one of Atsumu’s legs to settle the other in the crook of his elbow, pulling Atsumu wider than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The toes of his dangling leg wouldn’t be able to reach the floor, not at this angle, so he’d have to keep his leg tight around Omi’s waist and feel his ass clench below Atsumu’s calf with each thrust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As strong as Omi was, he’d eventually get tired and pull Atsumu off his cock before dropping him onto his own shaky legs. He’d flip Atsumu around to face the wall, pull his hips back with one hand curled around his hip bone, and slide back inside before Atsumu was really steady on his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu could feel his orgasm approaching, his hand slipping fast over his head, with his other hand trailing fingers over his hole--not going in, just teasing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fantasy shifted, now Atsumu was on top, but it wasn’t Omi beneath him anymore. Hinata’s bright hair was splayed over the pillow, his face flushed and his eyes glassy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, ‘Tsumu, let me come,” he’d whine, wrists trapped above his head in one of Atsumu’s larger hands. Hinata’s legs would be spread wide around Atsumu, knees drifting towards his chest with every push of Atsumu inside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu would pull out, lean back to watch where he was buried deep inside. He’d wait, just the head inside Hinata’s tight ass, for Hinata to whine again before slamming back inside. He’d always loved fucking Hinata, the way his eyes teared up so easily and he wasn’t afraid to show his pleasure through words or sounds or long scratches on Atsumu’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn’t the memory of Hinata’s moans that sent Atsumu over the edge, it was the way they used to cuddle after, sweaty and tired but with matching grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only took a few seconds for Atsumu to look at the come he’d caught in his hand and feel a surge of guilt--and sadness so sharp he thought he’d choke. Hinata was dead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And they hadn’t even been together when he’d died, so what was Atsumu doing jerking off to his memories of his dead ex-boyfriend? Sick, he was sick in the head. Don’t panic, don’t panic. It was over, as it had been for almost a year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Osamu was right and it really was time to try to move on. Even if that meant getting a new partner that he didn’t want, and taking a second crack at the job that had killed his last one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a long time before he could fall asleep, even after he’d washed up and put on his rain sounds playlist, but his dreams were blissfully black when he finally did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was indeed raining when he woke up the next morning, which made the whole experience rather delightful. He liked the soft gray wash it lent his room, the way tracks down his windows made him think of bugs and big leaves and hourglasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wasn’t really ready for the day, but when was he ever honestly. It didn’t stop him from getting out of bed and brushing his teeth (look, Osamu!). His phone pinged in the middle of his breakfast (...cereal). It was from Omi and consisted of “30 minutes” and an address he knew too well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t have been surprised that Omi knew about Bokuto and Akaashi’s shop, probably, given how central it was and how wide a variety of knowledge those two had, but he wrinkled his nose in distaste all the same. He avoided them if he could, which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>most of the time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, until now, apparently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out the door and to the shop, then, which was conveniently within walking distance. Everything was, actually, and Atsumu never knew if it was some magical quality of the city or if he’d accidentally structured his whole life very centrally. Who could say. Either way, he had to buy new shoes once a year because the soles wore out quickly on the gritty pavement and he couldn’t be fucked to lift his feet higher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The swish-swish was worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What would Omi be like today, he wondered, when it was just the two of them? Probably the same, probably apathetic and serious without being outright rude (unlike himself). The rain drizzled, dripping off his bangs. The moss brightened with the new moisture, his feet splished and scraped on the ground, and soon he was standing in front of a three-story (was it still three-story if one of them was underground? He didn’t know) and blinking up at Omi himself, who was leaning against the dry brick under an awning that read “Owl and Orchid” in glowing letters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sniffed at the name. He still couldn’t decide if it was cute or pretentious, but he figured treating it as the latter was the safe option. Not that Bokuto could be pretentious. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akaashi, </span>
  </em>
  <span>however, practically had “pretentious” in his character description.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi slid from the wall with a special kind of grace when Atsumu got close enough. He was wearing a mask--somehow Atsumu was going to get that story--and he jerked his head to the alleyway entrance, concrete steps to the basement, rather than giving any sort of greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hello Omi! Good mornin’, it’s great to see you, I’m doin’ great thanks for askin’.” Atsumu said it with a laugh, the most annoying one he could muster, and relished in the irritated eyebrow movement it garnered from Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Miya,” he called derisively over his shoulder after he’d already turned and made it halfway down the stairs. Jerk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside of the shop was just how he remembered it, despite it having been a solid six months since he’d been inside. “Hey hey hey!” The loud voice came from behind some shelves, and Atsumu hadn’t realized he’d missed it at all until he heard it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Bokuto,” Omi called and what, Bokuto got a greeting but Atsumu didn’t?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusaaa! This him?--Oh, Atsumu,” Bokuto cut off his own question. His hands had been on his hips, but they dropped at the sight of him. Seeing Bokuto look anything like his exuberant self made Atsumu’s chest ache, but it wasn’t really his problem to care about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know each other already?” Omi asked, with what probably passed as a surprised tone for him but would be considered monotone for anybody else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu jerked his eyes up to meet Bokuto’s, but they didn’t reveal anything. “Yep!” Was all Bokuto gave in answer, before Atsumu could think of a better reply. “Me and Atsumu go back a ways,” he explained, but didn’t elaborate. Thankfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t know if he could handle more stirring of his Hinata trauma, after last night, and the knowledge that he was about to get himself into it again with the same people who took his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Akaashi here?” Omi asked, seeming not to pick up on the tension between the other two. Either that, or he had some tact. (Maybe he could introduce Atsumu to the idea).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Bokuto said, then whistled loudly and called “Keiiiiji!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later Akaashi appeared, (god he was so beautiful, it had been too long since Atsumu’s eyes had--) with an irritated expression. “Don’t whistle at me, Koutarou,” he said, but Bokuto just cackled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it works so well!” Bokuto laughed. Akaashi, in a rare display of violence, swiped a cardboard cutout from a nearby shelf and threw it at Bokuto’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, this is cute, but what are we doin’ here, Omi?” Atsumu asked. All three pairs of eyes turned to him, and he looked askance to shake the feeling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Omi</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Bokuto mouthed to Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some rocks on the shelf nearest to Atsumu cooed insults at him, and he had to struggle to maintain a straight face. He had enough situational awareness to know that yelling at some rocks would be considered weird, even for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto and Akaashi help me with all my cases,” Omi explained, “It would be a mistake not to ask them if they know anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And--okay, that was a good point. Those two knew a lot of what happened in the city by virtue of being a magic-oriented shop. Law-abiding citizen and criminal alike frequented the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had an affinity for plants (or perhaps it was they that had an affinity for him) and had made a prospering business by selling various ingredients and plant-based potions. For causes he believed in, he’d been known to offer a more...dangerous selection of paraphernalia. Bokuto himself was a healer, which worked well alongside Akaashi. Together they’d created their own little safe haven of sorts, with open doors for any creature in need of help--human or otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I already know the fence the guy tried to use, I dunno what these two could know that would help more’n that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You what? How do you know that?” Omi asked, turning to face Atsumu fully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suna told me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have started there,” Omi argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna</span>
  </em>
  <span>, once we met up, yer the one that demanded I be here without tellin’ me shit!” Instead of seeing the clear reasoning of Atsumu’s point, Omi’s expression turned darker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you were going to be unpleasant to work with,” he muttered, turning back to the other two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t even do anything yet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yet?” Omi asked, raising an eyebrow at Atsumu again. He still couldn’t tell if Omi was giving him shit--flirting??--or just deadpanning. The lack of unobscured facial expression didn’t help, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t suppose you know anything about that jewelry theft?” Omi asked the other two, holding out his phone with the details on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shook their heads, Bokuto shrugging and saying “Nah, nothin, sorry bro,” while Akaashi just hmmed thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your way it is, then,” Omi said and abruptly turned on his heel and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto called out after his retreating form, “Hey, you coming over later??” Omi just nodded without turning around and waved goodbye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was left alone with Bokuto and Akaashi. He missed them, was envious of the casual way they talked to Omi that showed how deep their friendship ran. They used to talk to him like that, too. Before he got Hinata killed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was good to see ya both,” he bit out around an awkward bow-type-thing. He left before he could hear their reply.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The rock says sorry, by the way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They spend a little time together, sticks and stones, and complete their first mini job together. Plus some lil background hints.</p><p>Akaashi and Bokuto are the softest friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t know what to make of Atsumu Miya. He didn’t know Osamu that well, but he appreciated how quiet and normal he seemed compared to his twin. Sakusa had spent most of that first meeting trying to catalogue reactions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like the way Atsumu smiled with his whole face that almost made it look genuine even though Sakusa had a feeling it was forced. The natural banter between the twins that spoke of longstanding affection and goofiness. Atsumu’s restlessness bordered on twitchiness which, in addition to his difficulty paying attention when other people spoke, spoke of either a caffeine addiction or serious nervous energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa knew what happened to Atsumu, why he was the way he was now. His best friends, Bokuto and Akaashi, had dealt with their own grief around Hinata’s death, and Sakusa had been there for them every step of the way. So he knew, but he had a feeling Atsumu didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> he knew. Not that it mattered--he was here to do his job, and do it well, and he didn’t intend to baby Atsumu even a little, regardless of his traumatic past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had seen enough death to know what it did to people, but he’d also picked himself up enough to know it was possible. If Atsumu wanted to dwell on the past his whole life, that was his decision to make. Sakusa wasn’t here to save him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two know each other?” He’d said in the shop, as if he hadn’t heard the gritty details already. Playing dumb never hurt, he’d figured, and it was better than admitting he knew way too much about his new partner than was expected. Or appropriate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, waiting under the awning for Atsumu again--he could hear the muffled sounds of their talking through multiple layers of brick and a flight of stairs-- he had a second to think about how he wanted to handle the whole Atsumu situation. Atsumu was his own brand of irritating, but Sakusa had handled worse and was surprisingly adept at getting along with all sorts of people. Sakusa was also good at ignoring annoying people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d never been one to form many friendships, growing up. It wasn’t until Bokuto and Akaashi (mostly Bokuto, later Akaashi) had forced their friendship upon him that he’d changed his mind on relationships. Now, he was endlessly grateful for the constant love and support they showed him. It was something he hadn’t known he needed until he had it, and that he now wouldn’t know what to do without.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turned out, he was lovable after all. And two friends was enough, he wasn’t looking for a third. He and Atsumu seemed to be on the same page with that one, at least. His phone buzzed in his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” He answered, fingers already cold where they held the metal against his ear. The rain had given way to a heavy fog that clung to his knuckles and dampened his mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Sakusa. How’s day one with Atsumu?” Osamu’s voice crackled a bit and Sakusa took a moment to lament that his phone volume couldn’t go down any further, even though Osamu wasn’t particularly loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, so far.” That was technically true, no matter how irritating it was that Atsumu had gotten a lead and said nothing to Sakusa about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh, good. Ya checkin’ out Suna’s suggestion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well cool, thanks, good luck!” The call ended, and Sakusa pulled his phone from his face to confirm that Osamu just hung up in the middle of a pointless conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” Atsumu said, rounding the corner and not slowing down for a second as he booked it down the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The city’s underground was, literally, underground. Atsumu led Sakusa to a nearby building with an illuminated down-facing arrow. Inside, a dingy stone stairwell took them far beneath the streets they’d come from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was mostly dark in the underground, but sunlight filtered through occasional holes in the ceiling, some of which were accidental cave-ins, others of which were planned explosions. Atsumu didn’t talk much, just led the way with scuffling footsteps to the bottom of the stairwell and out into a dirt corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The underground looked like a huge balloon had been inflated, then popped when the earth settled around it. It was a great big cavern that Sakusa had had the displeasure of spending a fair amount of time in, considering the type of people he was paid to track down. He eyed the polluted dirt walkways with distaste. It smelled like shit and bodies and standing water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even the slightest noise had an echo, though faint, and the whole place overstimulated his sensitive nose and ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her name’s Kiyoko. She’s sorta nice, according to Suna,” was the only thing Atsumu said as he led them farther underground. So apparently Atsumu did know how to keep his mouth shut, he just chose not to most of the time. Interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The place they stopped at--Atsumu squinted at his phone then back at the building--looked wrong. Every other building that wasn’t outright made of mud was at least covered in it. This one, on the other hand, was painted a light shade of pink and boasted “fresh-made pastries!” in the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had no name, as far as Sakusa could see, but there were stands of meticulously decorated cookies and cupcakes in the window. Definitely suspicious. He could feel the reassuring weight of a knife in one side of his jacket and his gun in the other, but something about this place felt majorly off. Nothing should be this clean this far under the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Sakusa opened his mouth to say something about being careful, though, Atsumu just shrugged and pushed his way through the cheery white door. Blockhead, wasn’t he. There was a reason Sakusa had never failed a job and walking headfirst into unknown places </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-Hi, welcome! Can I get you anything!” The overly cheerful voice drifted through the door right before it clicked shut behind Atsumu. Sakusa cast a wary eye around before letting himself inside after his partner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was grinning and pointing at various desserts in the case, patiently listening to the woman explain each one. The whole place smelled good; a pleasant contrast to the path they’d come from. Somewhere in a back room, a fan whirred softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, I baked that one today! It’s raspberry, but I put little chocolate chips in it that are shaped like hearts, but I also made some </span>
  <em>
    <span>without</span>
  </em>
  <span> chocolate in case somebody comes in who doesn’t like chocolate? But who wouldn’t like chocolate in their cupcakes?” Wow, this woman was even more talkative than Atsumu seemed to be. Somehow, it was less annoying when she did it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, Omi, this’s Yachi,” Atsumu said, turning, before pointing Yachi to a little blue scone and wiggling his eyebrows. She nodded her head vigorously and put it in a little bag. The whole scene was ridiculous, what was Atsumu doing, sliding money across the counter instead of asking about their actual job?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Kiyoko here?” He asked Yachi himself, seeing as Atsumu seemed to have forgotten why they were here in the first place. Atsumu shot him an eye roll for his trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiy--Yeah, she’s, um, she’s in the back. I’ll just--here you go,” she handed the bag to Atsumu, “--I’ll be right back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was not right back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment she slipped around the door behind the counter, she slammed it shut and slipped open a little peep hole. “What do you want with Kiyoko!” She yelled, and it barely sounded more intimidating than her customer voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Omi, great work,” Atsumu drawled. Sakusa felt himself flush and tried to pretend it wasn’t because he misjudged the situation right after mentally criticizing Atsumu for his own behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, Yachi, we ain’t here for anythin’ messy. Suna said Kiyoko might know about a guy we’re lookin’ for.” Atsumu held his hands up while he said this, looking surprisingly harmless for a guy that Sakusa knew had killed people with his bare hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was muffled speech behind the door. It opened, and Yachi beckoned them through--but not before pointing two fingers at her own eyes and then at each of theirs. It was more cute than threatening, but Sakusa got the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The office behind the flowery counter was more what Sakusa had been expecting from an underground building. It was poorly lit by a single light dangling from the ceiling. Multiple fireproof filing cabinets lined one wall, and the desk was long and metal. Behind it sat who Sakusa assumed was Kiyoko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her dark hair was braided over one shoulder, and the way she sat sprawled in her chair almost hid the eyepatch that covered one eye. A thin scar peeked out on either side of the patch. Her lean arms were crossed over her chest, one boot on the desk. She cut a much more intimidating figure than Yachi, that was for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suna sent you. Atsumu and Sakusa, yes?” She asked, dropping her foot to the floor to lean forward in her chair. Yachi moved to stand behind her, doing her best to glare at both of them in turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he said ya might know somethin’ about the necklace guy,” Atsumu said, gesturing flippantly around his neck as if Kiyoko needed a visual reminder of what a necklace was. Sakusa stayed quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, that I do,” Kiyoko muttered, sitting back in her seat again. “He wanted me to buy those necklaces off him. I told him it was a little high risk considering how bad a job he did with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have them, then?” Sakusa spoke this time. Kiyoko didn’t answer. She did, however, whisper something to Yachi, who dropped a kiss--oh--on Kiyoko’s forehead and scooted back out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D’ya know where we could find him, then?” Atsumu asked. He was still holding the scone bag. Technically, they were hired to get the guy, not the jewelry. Kiyoko gave a considering hum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can give him to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, really?” Atsumu asked, sounding doubtful. Kiyoko nodded slightly. “For...free?” Atsumu asked hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoko snorted and said with a smile, “Definitely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu glanced over at Sakusa, who gave a slight shrug with one shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, how much then?” Atsumu asked. Sakusa started to tense, worried about what she’d ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tapped her chin, her uncovered eye glinting merrily at them. “How’s a favor sound?” No way. Terrible idea. He tried to communicate how incredibly stupid it would be to agree, but Atsumu wasn’t looking at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu narrowed his eyes. “One sec.” He pulled out his phone, tapped it twice, and held it up to his ear. “Yo, it’s me….Yep...How should I feel about owing Kiyoko a favor?” Atsumu chewed at his lip while he listened. “Uh huh. Thanks,” Atsumu barked a laugh, “No, you.” He slipped his phone back in his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a favor from me, not him,” he jerked an offending thumb at Sakusa, “‘kay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Kiyoko said, appearing satisfied. She stood up to shake on it with Atsumu, then motioned them to follow her out, through the shop where Yachi was eating one of her own cupcakes, to another room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This room had a very suspicious lump of blanket in the middle of it, wrapped in rope. Kiyoko kicked it and it let out an </span>
  <em>
    <span>oomph</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, seriously? Yer just gonna give’im to us?” Atsumu cocked his head. “Isn’t that, like...bad for yer business…?” he asked, making a surprising amount of sense for one so thick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoko’s eye narrowed into a dangerous slit, and Sakusa almost gulped at the change in her demeanor. “This one’s special,” she sneered. Her eye flicked to Yachi, who was quietly humming to herself, and Sakusa understood the general theme of what must have happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu seemed to as well, since he didn’t comment, just gave a considering hum when Kiyoko kicked the lump again. Sakusa could hear the faint rattle in the guy’s chest with every breath he took. Kiyoko must have spent some quality time with him before they came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, cool, we’ll just--” Atsumu gestured to the man on the ground and jerked his head at Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Sakusa asked, “You can’t lift him on your own?” He almost wanted to laugh at the indignant expression that crossed Atsumu’s face, but he only managed a smirk--not that Atsumu could see it, hidden behind his mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha--I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it would just be </span>
  <em>
    <span>easier</span>
  </em>
  <span>--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t let him finish, just took the two steps towards the prone man and stooped to pick him up and sling him over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He didn’t deny the flash of satisfaction at Atsumu’s dropped jaw. People were heavy, after all, and Sakusa knew how impressive it probably seemed to lift one so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t forget the favor,” Kiyoko called as Atsumu trailed Sakusa--and his package--out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t hafta sound so ominous,” Atsumu commented, glancing at the building they were leaving behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe she wanted you to know that you made a terrible mistake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha--excuse me?! Suna said it would be fine! And besides, we got the guy, thanks to yers truly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Sakusa said, and chuckled quietly at the way Atsumu’s ears turned red--with embarrassment or anger, he couldn’t tell. “It’s your problem either way, I intend to stay out of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, ya don’t hafta tell me, Omi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just making sure you don’t come crying to me when she asks you to--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t get to finish the sentence, courtesy of the rock that snapped up from the ground and hit his temple with a crack. He went down without a sound other than that of his knees, then face hitting the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to blink away the pain as the lump he’d been carrying wriggled and rolled a few feet away. The guy didn’t get far, since he was still wrapped in a blanket and tied, but it was still immensely satisfying when--through dim, hazy eyes--Sakusa watched Atsumu pick up a rock of his own and smash it over the other guy’s head so he went limp again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu bent to say something to the rock, then held it up to his ear for a moment to listen. He set the rock down and walked back over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey hey Omi, ya good?” Atsumu asked, crouching before Sakusa’s face and waving a hand around in front of his eyes. It made him want to vomit, so he squeezed his eyes closed again. “The rock says sorry, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wasn’t going to comment on that. “I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh, ya sure look fine,” Atsumu cackled. Sakusa opened his eyes a little. Atsumu’s hand drifted closer, and Sakusa flinched away sharply before it could do--whatever it was going to do with it. A frown crossed Atsumu’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya got blood on yer face, dipshit,” Sakusa heard him say. His head throbbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t offer him a hand up, but Sakusa didn’t need it. He did, however, need to sit for a second and wait for the dizziness to pass before he got the rest of the way up. Atsumu already had the other guy draped over his shoulders--unsteadily--by the time Sakusa was fully up and moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess that answers how he got the necklaces,” Atsumu muttered from in front of Sakusa. Sakusa made a confused noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya know, telekinesis or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah,” Sakusa replied, deciding not to give Atsumu the satisfaction of realizing Sakusa hadn’t thought about it beyond the fact that his head hurt really, really bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had to take turns carrying the guy up the multiple flights of stairs. Sakusa could have done it alone, but he didn’t want Atsumu questioning his strength. And he liked listening to Atsumu puff out his breaths as his legs struggled up the later steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s head throbbed worse with every moment. It throbbed its way through them walking to the secondary location, through Atsumu taking a picture of the guy as proof and waiting for confirmation, and all throughout Sakusa’s attempts to ignore Atsumu’s chatter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was still throbbing when he slumped through the door to Owl and Orchid and collapsed into Akaashi with a slight whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa, are you--” Akaashi strained his head back to peer at the side of Sakusa’s face, where he knew the bleeding had stopped but not dried yet. “Oh, Sakusa, you should have called.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worried note in his friend’s voice made Sakusa feel warm inside. “Come here,” Akaashi said--quietly, so quietly, because he knew everything and Sakusa loved him for it--and led him to the door at the back of the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More stairs than Sakusa wanted to climb later, and they were entering the apartment on the top floor. Akaashi had draped one of Sakusa’s arms over his own shoulders to help him walk, not that he really needed it, but it was nice all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Koutarou, come help,” Akaashi called, softly, but Bokuto heard him anyway and came from the short hallway dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, with the wet ends of his hair dripping onto his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Broooo, what happened?” Bokuto asked in his inside-voice that was still louder than it had to be. Akaashi made a hushing hand gesture at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somebody threw a rock at me,” Sakusa pouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nooooooo,” Bokuto whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Sakusa said, though, to make sure they wouldn’t actually worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friends sat Sakusa down on their couch and Bokuto cupped his face in his large, warm hands. He pulled Sakusa’s mask off gently, one ear at a time, and tilted Sakusa’s jaw to get a better look at the blossoming bruise near his temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really nothing, I feel normal,” Sakusa tried, which was mostly true except for the dizziness and nausea, but Bokuto glared at him and instructed him to lie down with his head in Bokuto’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi left to the kitchen, claiming to make tea, while Bokuto rested one hand on each side of Sakusa’s head. The healing always felt weird, in Sakusa’s opinion. It felt like Bokuto was pulling little strings through his head, back and forth, tugging on something invisible that didn’t want to be tugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt better almost immediately. He knew Bokuto’s hands were probably glowing softly, but he couldn’t see them with his eyes closed. It was over quickly; it usually was, unless the injury was serious, and Sakusa felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. That was normal, too. Magic always took some kind of price, and it wasn’t uncommon to hear news of a young witch accidentally killing themself by attempting something too big.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto tipped forward and pressed a light kiss to Sakusa’s forehead, which prompted a soft giggle from Sakusa. Sakusa didn’t even feel self-conscious at the sliver of sharp canine his laugh revealed, knowing Bokuto had seen it so many times already that it had ceased to be a novelty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Akaashi made his way back to the couch to set three mugs of tea on the low table, Sakusa and Bokuto were comfortably curled up together. Healing took it out of Bokuto as much as his patient, Sakusa knew, and they were both nearly asleep already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was having none of that. “Sit up, I made you tea. It’s too late for a nap,” he said, wrapping Sakusa’s hands around the mug of lavender tea Akaashi knew he liked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But baaaaaaaabe,” Bokuto grumbled, sitting up only far enough to rest his chin on Sakusa’s shoulder. Akaashi blew a soft kiss to his boyfriend and handed him his cup of tea, too, and took a seat on Sakusa’s other side. He smoothed a hand softly over Sakusa’s back, back and forth the way he knew he liked, and Sakusa gave a hum of appreciation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as Akaashi tried to stop it for the sake of their sleep schedules, they all ended up in a drowsy pile of limbs shortly after they finished their tea. Akaashi put on an ocean documentary and pulled Sakusa’s head into his lap to comb through this hair, while Bokuto fell asleep against Sakusa’s other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t prevent their nap the second time. When they both woke up, it was to the sight of Akaashi coming through the door with takeout bags like the angel he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know about the job they brought you in for?” Akaashi asked, once they’d finished eating and were sitting back on the couch. Bokuto picked his head up from the arm rest to pay attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I think so. It’s,” Sakusa paused to look over at Bokuto, who was clenching one hand against his knee. “It’s the serial killers, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Akaashi twisted his hands together in his lap. His eyes traced the delicate lines of his own knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ones that killed Hinata,” Bokuto clarified, voice rough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had known that, but only by deduction. He didn’t know the whole story, just what Bokuto and Akaashi knew. Apparently Atsumu never told anyone what really happened, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu and Hinata had been partnered for years. They’d worked well together, according to Bokuto, who had taught Hinata everything he’d known. He’d been like a mentor of sorts for Hinata, despite them only being a few years apart in age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto had his own dark past, Sakusa knew, but he’d put that behind him in favor of running the sanctuary shop with Akaashi and focusing on his own innate healing ability rather than his ability to wreak havoc. Hinata had taken to bounty hunting like a duck to water, Bokuto used to say with a smile. Hinata was surprisingly bloodthirsty and driven, but always maintained his cheer in the company of friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu and Hinata had been dating, too, apparently. Though Bokuto said they’d separated shortly before Hinata’s death. All the three of them knew was what Atsumu had told Osamu, which was that something had gone wrong on their last mission. They’d been hired by an oil company, of all things, to track down whoever had been killing their employees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pattern had emerged slowly, with seemingly unconnected murders. The thing they had in common, Atsumu and Hinata had found, was their controlling share in the same oil company. One by one they were found dead; through a blown-up ship, or a knife in the neck. The two of them had followed a lead. Only Atsumu came back, dried tear tracks tracing through the dirt on his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole case was personal for Atsumu, that much was obvious. What Sakusa would have to look out for, though, was whether Atsumu was too close to do his job well. Revenge-fueled violence could go one of two ways, in his experience: either Atsumu would be transformed into some kind of lethal monster, or he’d get himself killed because he wasn’t thinking straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa would have to be on high alert, so he could both do his job and watch Atsumu - annoying partner or not, Sakusa didn’t want to feel responsible for anybody’s blood on his hands that he didn’t put there himself. On purpose. Especially since Atsumu himself seemed to be one of the good guys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to go through with it?” Akaashi asked quietly, echoing Sakusa’s own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could do it; he knew his own strength, and his enhanced capabilities meant he was stronger than humans were. The question was whether he wanted to get entangled in this whole mess, and possibly watch Atsumu destroy himself in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It will be challenging, but I’m not worried.” They both knew his feelings towards bounty hunting, how the disease of crime made his skin crawl. Knowing there were evil people outside of these walls, hurting other people, made him want to grab his gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d always had a specific sense of morality; killing was okay by him if he was killing bad people. Yes, the job paid well and he was soon going to be able to buy the apartment he was renting, and he enjoyed the satisfaction of ridding the world of shitty people. More important than that, though, were the fae and women’s shelters he donated most of his earnings to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae shelter was the only reason he was where he was today, after all. After what happened to his dad, and then his mom, he knew how important safe spaces were - which was why he’d donate to the shelters whenever he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if this specific job weren’t offering so much money that he knew the targets must be horrible people, he also didn’t hate that he’d be working with Atsumu. Sure he was obnoxious and loud and rude, but Sakusa had been around long enough to figure most of it was a front. A front that he’d established after his heart had been crushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had surprised him, the way Atsumu’s immaturity didn’t feel like somebody had taken a cheese grater to his sensibilities, but he had no explanation other than that his expectations had been on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right. Be careful, though. Hinata was good at what he did too, remember. And we’ll both be here to help when you need us,” Akaashi said, then bumped their shoulders together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was grateful. They were his only two friends, and their support had ended up meaning more to him than he’d ever anticipated. After his childhood...well, he hadn’t planned on being loved any time soon, let alone by people as genuine as these.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you staying?” Akaashi asked, as Sakusa helped drag a sleepy Bokuto into the bedroom. He knew from past offers that he could sleep in their bed with them if he wanted, or take the couch, but the serenity of his own bed sounded better after his long day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tense encounter at the shop this morning, following Atsumu all over the underground, getting a rock to the head, and taking a late nap had all been a smidge draining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you. Not tonight,” he answered. Akaashi hummed and walked him out, giving him a brief hug before closing the door softly behind Sakusa. No sooner had the door clicked shut than Sakusa was drawing his energy inward, like a gentle pull against his skin, and focusing on the kitchen in his own apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened his eyes, he was there. His head gave a little throb and he felt lightheaded, but he knew his apartment was close enough to his friends’ to teleport safely. Everything was how he’d left it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights were off, but the moon shone softly through the large window in the living room. The apartment was small, just a bedroom and a living space with a kitchen and couch, but it was more than enough for Sakusa. On the window sill lived a few plants, all gifts from Akaashi. One of them bloomed delicately in the moonlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway into sleep, Sakusa’s phone buzzed. And buzzed. And buzzed. And buzz - he slid his finger across the screen to accept the call without opening his eyes. He didn’t say anything, hoping that whoever it was would leave him alone if he didn’t actually talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi?” No such luck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He answered, trying not to sound like he’d been fully asleep. It didn’t work, and he winced at how soft his voice sounded when he’d intended it to be sharp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did yer money come through?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably,” was Sakusa’s answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, ya didn’t check?” Obviously not, Miya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did yours not come?” Sakusa’s eyes were closed, his voice coming slower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it did, I just wanted ta check.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hummed in reply, too out of it to question why Atsumu had felt the need to call him for such a trivial matter. And so late at night, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you fallin’ asleep?! While I’m talkin’ to ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t reply, half because it was true and half because he was really starting to lose track of the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard a laugh through the phone. “Goodnight, Omi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wasn’t awake enough to hear his own reply, and he went to sleep with his head blissfully empty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over the next couple weeks, Sakusa and Atsumu worked more small jobs together. Atsumu continued to surprise Sakusa with his ability to perform well at his job while simultaneously being his obnoxious self.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they spent more time together, Sakusa learned more about Atsumu. He never spoke about Hinata, or the job they’d eventually take a second crack at, but Sakusa could see the weight on his shoulders. It crept in during the quiet moments, when Atsumu would forget to chatter or tease, would draw his eyebrows close and look too long at his own feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, Sakusa found himself starting to enjoy Atsumu’s company. Not nearly enough to reach out outside of their job, but enough to not feel like his skin was prickling every time they were together. And he could see Atsumu warming up to him too, despite Sakusa’s naturally apathetic personality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had happened suddenly, Sakusa thought. They’d been searching for a guy who missed his court date, after being charged with child neglect. When they’d gotten to the house, they hadn’t expected his daughter to be there with him. Atsumu had been putting the guy in handcuffs, a little rougher than he had to, when Sakusa’s advanced hearing picked up sniffles from under the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been curled in the corner, watching everything happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey.” Sakusa knelt down to look under the bed. Her wide tear-filled eyes peered back at him. Sakusa had a moment to regret being so aggressive in their treatment of her father, now that he knew she’d been watching from under here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Kiyoomi. What’s yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-Yuki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, Yuki. Do you know why we’re here?” She shook her head. “We came to get your dad. He needs to go away for a while.” She nodded - she must know, then, the situation. Sakusa nodded back at her. “We didn’t know you’d be here, Yuki. Can you come out? We won’t hurt you, you’re safe. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By this point, Atsumu had figured out something was going on. He ignored the man’s yelling and his attempts to fight the cuffs - Sakusa could feel him watching him from across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki crawled out. Her bright orange, curly hair was fluffed all over her head. Instead of going to her dad, like Sakusa had expected, she went right to Sakusa himself. His eyes widened at the sudden hug, her little body shaking against his, but he wrapped his arms back around her anyway. She pulled away and gripped his hand tightly in hers. After that, she wouldn’t let go of his hand for anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quiet gasp behind him had made Sakusa turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was staring at him with so much emotion in his eyes - shock, sympathy, concern, gratitude - that Sakusa did a double take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. If there had been a single moment that made Atsumu like Sakusa, it was probably that interaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had piggy-backed Yuki all the way back to the city, where he and Atsumu split up - Atsumu took the guy to the police, and Sakusa took Yuki to a women’s shelter. Her mom was dead, and he knew what could happen to kids who became custody of the state. He and Atsumu told the police that Yuki hadn’t been in the house at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until later, when Sakusa was hanging out with Bokuto and Akaashi, that Atsumu called and made fun of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awww, who knew Omi was such a softie?!” Atsumu had cackled over the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bold words, for someone who almost cried just because a little girl hugged me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, I did not!” Atsumu was so easy to tease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice try, but you’ve never been subtle about your emotions, Miya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have ‘em, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Omi! I swear, that was the first time I saw ya be anythin’ close to gentle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, our line of work doesn’t often require it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu hummed in agreement. “I guess I jus’ wanted to say I thought it was cool. That ya were so, ya know...nice. To her.” Sakusa made a face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, yer so prickly, I was just surprised ya had it in you to be like that.” Sakusa had supposed that was fair. He knew he tended to come across as unfeeling, rude even, and it was rare he let others see past that. Showing Atsumu that side had been an accident, but he’d endure the teasing. Especially since he didn’t think he was mistaking the fond tone in Atsumu’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I like kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What! </span>
  <em>
    <span>The </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa Kiyoomi likes children? Are ya sure ya haven’t been possessed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha ha, Miya.” He didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want to get into his childhood trauma, especially not with Miya Atsumu of all people. Didn’t want to say, “I’m scared of the world and children are too often hurt” or anything else that sounded overly vulnerable. So instead he hung up, but the knowledge that Atsumu took the time to call him about the whole thing and ask made him feel a little warm inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t tell Atsumu that he’d visited Yuki every day since then, just to make sure she didn’t feel alone. He knew what it was like to feel unloved and alone as a kid. He didn’t want Yuki to feel that way ever, if he could help it. Maybe someday he could adopt her, if she wanted, but for now he knew his life was far too dangerous and unstable for him to provide an adequate home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke up with the sun, as he did every day. His enhanced senses made it extra difficult to sleep during the daytime, between the city sounds his walls failed to block out and the brightness of the sunlight in his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone showed no notifications. He wondered if Osamu would contact him soon to tell him more about the job. It had been a few weeks since they’d first met, and he and Atsumu had a feel for each other now. He knew the primary reason they were working together was to find the people that killed Hinata, and he couldn’t help but wonder when they’d start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the meantime, the smaller jobs still paid well. He used a lot of the money he made for donations to women’s shelters and fae shelters, which gave him a sense of purpose beyond just getting rid of bad people. He didn’t spend as much time there now as he used to, but he still tried to help out in the ways he could, whether it was reading to kids at the fae shelter or dropping off supplies for the women’s shelter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His question was answered before too long, with the unwelcome rap of knuckles against his door. He narrowed his eyes. Through the door he could make out elevated breathing, probably from all the stairs, and the crinkle of paper?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omiii, open up!” Sakusa’d had a feeling it was Atsumu, but that confirmed it. Casting about for a face mask, he went to grab the same plain white one from yesterday but found it covered in blood. He grimaced at the realization that he’d never thrown it away. He fetched a clean one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s tired face greeted him from the other side of the door, once he cracked it open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who told you where I live?” He tried to convey his irritation with his voice, but he couldn’t tell if it worked since Atsumu’s face didn’t change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suna. Aren’tcha gonna let me in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I brought you a scone.” Atsumu pouted a little, shaking the little bag for emphasis--that explained the paper crinkle noise, Sakusa supposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like scones.” That was a lie, but Sakusa wasn’t about to tell him the real reason he was unwilling to remove his mask. Atsumu didn’t seem like the type to care, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s stupid, everybody likes scones,” Atsumu argued, brows drawing a little closer. It was kind of cute, unfortunately. Sakusa could smell the scone, buttery sweet with blueberries. His mouth watered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” he asked, instead of relenting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sheesh, grumps, ya don’t have to be so rude. We’re partners now, partner.” Atsumu chuckled at himself, and Sakusa was careful not to move his face beyond a slight narrowing of his eyes. He hadn’t opened the door past a crack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine! Well if ya aren’t gonna let me in, can we at least walk or somethin’? It’ll take a while to explain the whole case.” At that, Atsumu’s face finally lost its brightness. Sakusa was strangely sad to see it go, even though he’d known the cheer was a facade. Somehow seeing what hid underneath wasn’t at all satisfying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa sighed and opened the door wider, then retreated back into his apartment. Atsumu followed him inside with a sarcastic “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only people who’d seen the inside of his apartment were Bokuto and Akaashi, and even then, he usually went to them instead. Sakusa was a private person by nature, and having somebody new in his space was making his baby hairs tingle just a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tea?” he offered, because he may be apathetic but he still tried to be polite sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, no thanks. I’ve had like four cups of coffee,” Atsumu said and threw up a peace sign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’re exaggerating.” Based on the whisper of Atsumu’s heartbeat that Sakusa could hear when he was close, Atsumu was indeed exaggerating. And, he didn’t smell much like coffee. Not that it mattered, really, but Sakusa wondered if Atsumu was naturally jittery and if he told everybody he just drank a lot of caffeine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu made himself small on the couch. He pulled his socked feet onto the couch and tucked his knees near his chin, settling into the corner. Sakusa wasn’t sure he liked how small Atsumu could get, like that, but he brushed the thought aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t figure that much out, before,” Atsumu started, gazing somewhere near the door. “The killers call themselves ‘Nekoma,’ apparently. There are two, we think. Their targets,” a flicker of emotion passed over Atsumu’s face, but it was quick, “are all tied to some foreign oil company. At first we thought it was some eco-terrorism shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hummed in response. He’d never chosen to pursue bounties on eco-terrorists, but he knew plenty existed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, but that didn’t seem to match. They never actually did anythin’ to hurt the company other than killin’ all these rich guys. Like, ya’d think they’d fuck up the oil rigs or mess with the pipelines if they really wanted to do some damage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, it’s not that. The only reason we figured the murders were connected was because a lot of ‘em happened in these weird abandoned buildings that were all owned by the company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stopped talking and turned to shrug lightly at Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...That’s all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, no. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>all we had until I got a call last week about a survivor.” Atsumu’s eyes flicked back up to Sakusa and this time, the look they held chilled Sakusa’s blood. He looked dangerous, and cold with intent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why Osamu contacted me now, then.” The timing matched up, and from what Sakusa knew about the twins, Osamu hadn’t been about to let Atsumu try again on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup. It feels like the universe is tellin’ me to try again.” Well, that was a little far-fetched for Sakusa’s belief system, but he wasn’t about to say it. “And now you’ve got my back, Omi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, that.” Sakusa deadpanned. Atsumu cackled, the dark look gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nekoma must not know he survived, then?” Sakusa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, doesn’t seem so. And we’re tryna keep it that way. Osamu’s been watchin’ the hospital, just in case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then,” Sakusa said, standing up and stretching his shoulders, “Let’s pay a visit.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi readers, how's life? Is this fic making sense so far? Let me know what you think, if you're so inclined :)<br/>I'm worried that Atsumu's comparatively more energetic narration makes his more interesting than Omi's which is dumb cause I like them both so much?</p><p>I messed up the pacing so I made some changes to this chapter and reuploaded it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A nearby rock told Atsumu to shut up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They visit someone in the hospital, Omi chats with old friends, Atsumu feels some type of way about a few things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, to anyone reading this! I realized I had a bit of a, um, pacing issue? So I made a few changes to chapter 2, in case you need to check them out. They're small, though. This feels like shouting into the void, but that's okay ~<br/>Less pressure when I have no idea if anybody is paying attention to this :p</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Some of the cobblestones were whispering as Atsumu and Omi walked side by side through the city. Sometimes it made Atsumu feel like he was hallucinating, when tiny voices piped up out of nowhere, but he’d had his whole life to get used to them so they freaked him out less, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That didn’t mean it wasn’t still disconcerting, to be taking a little old walk and have the pieces of gravel think out loud around him. Natural stones and rocks generally had the most to say, he’d found, as if the process of crushing rock into cement squeezed some of the vitality out of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Woah, Atsumu, now probably wasn’t the best time to be wondering about the personhood of rocks and whether bricks were just rocks with the personality squeezed out of them...buildings made of...corpses…did rocks have feelings, too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi was a slower walker than Atsumu, which surprised him since those legs (and damn, those legs) were definitely longer than his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though, Atsumu knew he tended to walk as fast as his thoughts were going which was--usually--uh, very fast. Just give him an iced coffee and he’d be quite the stereotype. He snickered out loud at the image, and got a weird look from Omi for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry Omi, I’m jus’ really funny,” Atsumu said, pointing at his own head. Omi did not look impressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was starting to regret leaving the scone he’d gotten for Omi in the kitchen. If the guy didn’t want it, Atsumu would have had no problem eating it himself. He wasn’t hungry, per say, but sometimes he just wanted to - ah - chew on stuff? Not like an oral fixation, he told himself, more like...well, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t an oral fixation. Probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of Omi...the guy stared ahead as he walked, looking bored. He always looked bored, actually, which was no fun. It made Atsumu want to put an expression - any expression - on Omi’s face, just to break the apathetic countenance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Countenance was a big word, he should try to use it in conversation later with Osamu, probably. Atsumu’s phone buzzed - Osamu was calling and Atsumu couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he’d just been thinking of his twin, but then that sounded dumb, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe it wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo,” Atsumu said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do ya want some little jobs while yer working on the big one?” Osamu said, around what sounded like a mouthful of food but could be a mouthful of - oops, shut up, that only happened </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Atsumu would rather not be reminded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over at Omi, who was walking with his hands in his pockets and staring at Atsumu’s phone like he could hear even from so far away. Weirdo. He relayed Osamu’s question to Sakusa, who just nodded with a little shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yah sure, ya have a few?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu mmhmmed through the phone. “I’ll send ‘em to ya. Also I texted ya where to go in the hospital.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thanks.” Osamu had already hung up like the dick he was. They should have a talk about just how many of Suna’s characteristics his brother should feel comfortable adopting.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was pulled out from the inside of his head when Omi stopped beside him with a scuff of his feet and leaned back to look up at the hospital. It was tall, with multiple stories of reflective glass windows above a huge glowing “Emergency Room” sign, which they avoided in favor of the regular entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Floor three,” Atsumu muttered, reading Osamu’s text out loud. His twin was somewhere in the area, no doubt with Suna. It seemed unlikely the guy would still be alive right now if Nekoma had heard about his survival, which meant they probably wouldn’t show up, but you could never be sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They avoided the receptionist person, ducking instead down the nearest hallway to find the stairs. They had no real reason to keep a low profile, but Atsumu figured attention would at the very least be a hassle that he didn’t want to deal with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi didn’t slow down his pace the entire way up the three flights of stairs, which was frankly irritating. Atsumu was fit - more than fit, really, if his fights with Iwaizumi counted for anything - and even his thighs were aching by the final few steps, after having sped up the whole thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stairs hard for you, Miya?” Omi said, which would have earned anybody else a solid punch in the arm. Instead, Atsumu stuck the toe of his boot in front of Omi’s foot right before it made contact with the last step, tripping him hard enough that Omi had to slap a hand against the wall to stay upright. Atsumu snorted a loud laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The murderous glare Omi turned on Atsumu only made him cackle harder. Something about Omi’s unnaturally graceful body falling all over itself like a baby deer made it even funnier, especially paired with the Glare™.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still chuckling softly, Atsumu made to leave the stairwell. When he passed Omi at the top, however, Omi jerked at him quickly and Atsumu startled so hard he bit his tongue and flinched into a wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time it was Omi laughing, a quiet breathy thing behind his mask that lit up his eyes like Atsumu had never seen. He forgot to be mad, too caught up in the sight of Omi loosening up a little, which Atsumu figured he could stand to do more. Especially if it looked like that every time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was some of weirdest flirting Atsumu had been a part of - if it was flirting at all - but he wasn’t complaining. It was nice to know Omi had a sense of humor, no matter how underdeveloped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the guy’s hospital room was closed. Omi got there first and pulled the patient folder from where it had been slotted in a plastic sleeve attached to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His name is Hank Jackson...” (Atsumu chuckled at Omi’s confused tone and - ew, two first names?) “White, fifty years old. Throat cut, blood loss...smoke inhalation, broken ribs...ah, regenerative powers,” Omi read off the sheet, “That’s why he’s alive, I assume. Nekoma must not have done their research.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky him,” Atsumu agreed, coming close to read over Omi’s shoulder. Omi stiffened slightly but didn’t otherwise move. “Let’s see what’s up,” said Atsumu, reaching for the handle. Omi slid the file back where it went and followed him into the room</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hospital bed was empty, just rumpled sheets to indicate somebody had been there at all. The machines weren’t screaming though, just beeping out loud in rhythm to a fast heartbeat. Atsumu traced the wire from the machine and over the bed where it disappeared on the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rounding the bed, Atsumu saw the guy - Hank, lol - curled up into a ball with his hands near his face as if fending off some attack. The poor dude hadn’t even thought to pull off the finger clip measuring his vitals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-don’t hurt me! Please!” Hank cried, still hiding behind his hands. He wasn’t wearing anything under his hospital gown, which Atsumu noted with some level of disgust had slipped up his thighs and was showing off a lot more than Atsumu wanted to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We aren’t here to hurt you,” Omi spoke up, dragging a blanket off the bed to drape over Hank’s whole body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t?” Hank pulled the blanket off his head and looked up at them. He looked pathetic on the floor. Was his bare ass on the tile right now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, we’re actually looking for the guys who did this to ya,” Atsumu replied. Omi nodded. “Wanna tell us what happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy stood up, and Atsumu got a better look at him. A thick white bandage wrapped around his throat, which had some old bruising that traveled up his jaw. He looked a little sickly, but nothing too bad. Atsumu figured he probably looked a lot better than he had when he’d been admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hank climbed back into the bed and Atsumu didn’t have time to avert his eyes as Hank bent over and the back of his gown gapped. Ew, old man booty. It was so...flabby looking. Atsumu gagged a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They came out of nowhere,” Hank started. “One minute I was looking over some files, and the next thing I know my buddy’s falling down dead next to me. One of them grabbed my head and,” Hank made a slicing motion across his neck. “I blacked out and when I woke up, everybody was dead and the building was on fire. I barely made it out.” Hank choked and coughed a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really did look weak, and scared, curled up in his hospital bed like he was. Hank looked tired, more than anything. “I’m just an employee, I don’t get why they’d attack me - or my coworkers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didja see ‘em?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hank coughed again. “No. But there are at least two - we caught them on a security camera from the last place they attacked. A tall one and a short one. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’re fucking faeries, with how strong they are.” Hank said it with a curled lip. Atsumu heard a faint inhale from Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fae politics were complex, and Atsumu knew their society tended to have a negative view of fae people. Still, it was rare to hear someone say “faerie” with such disgust. Atsumu suddenly felt less bad about the pain Hank must have suffered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do ya know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> they attacked ya? Why they targeted that location?” It seemed fishy to Atsumu that any fae would resort to such violence, especially since they were already marginalized in their society. Though, he knew not all fae held the same ideals so that was probably a useless train of thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hank shook his head, the gesture stiff with his neck bandage. “Maybe because we work for an oil company? Those animals get crazy about the eco-stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu gave a considering hum and exchanged a glance with Omi. Omi was stiff, and gave a slight shake of his head. Looked like they agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was yer job, specifically?” Atsumu asked, starting to realize Omi probably wanted him to handle all the talking. That, he could do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hank’s gaze shifted to the door and back. “I just...oversaw this energy project,” Hank said. Atsumu gestured for him to elaborate. “We were supposed to be finding a way to extract energy from...another source.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other than oil, you mean?” Omi spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. We found um, a type of plant. That we were experimenting on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what you were doing in that warehouse? Why did you need so much space?” Omi asked, again, and maybe Atsumu was wrong about him wanting to stay quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hank waved a dismissive hand. “Oil companies are allowed to develop other stuff too, you know. We just had a building full of this plant product that we were analyzing. Nothing that warranted such a horrible attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy seemed genuine in his distress, but something wasn’t adding up for Atsumu. Whatever was going on in that warehouse, Nekoma had deemed it bad enough to kill over. Must be some fuckin’ plant, then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hank spoke again. “You know fairies though, get upset about the smallest things.” He didn’t say it with any specific malice, just the resigned tone of somebody that probably wouldn’t ever analyze their own biases. The thought made Atsumu uncomfortable, but he still didn’t address it. He wasn’t here to explain identity politics to some old white guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya seem pretty sure this is fae-related,” Atsumu said, instead of correcting the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who else would care so much about something as stupid as plants?” Gods, get Atsumu out of here. He kept his face carefully blank, though. Sure, he self-identified as an asshole, but he wasn’t a bigoted one. Everybody received his assholery in equal amounts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That being said Atsumu knew where the guy’s opinion might have come from. It wasn’t uncommon for the most out-spoken voices about the environment and the planet to be fae communities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’there anythin’ else ya think would help us catch these guys?” Atsumu asked, partially because Hank was annoying him even while lying injured in a hospital bed - and after being attacked, without clear motivation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hank frowned. “Not that I can think of,” he answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the door had closed behind them and they were in the wide hallway again, Atsumu heard the creak of leather as Omi rolled his shoulders back in his jacket and let out a slow sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya tired already, Omi?” Atsumu joked, bumping his shoulder into the other, who tensed up again. On the one hand oops, he hadn’t meant to make the other man uncomfortable. On the other hand, though, Atsumu had thought they got along pretty well now even though it hadn’t been long since they’d met. Guess not, then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little,” was all Omi said in reply, maintaining a careful distance between them. Fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t talk again until they were on the street outside. “Wanna go to the fae quarter and ask some questions?” Atsumu asked, figuring it was the logical next step whether or not the guy had any reason to actually believe fae involvement. It wasn’t like they had other leads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s do it tomorrow,” Omi replied, after a small pause. Uh, okay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Got plans the rest of the day?” Atsumu asked, mostly because now he felt awkward and like there was a new distance between them even though he didn’t think he’d done anything to warrant it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really.” Wow, Omi, so forthcoming. Atsumu scoffed. Well, it wasn’t like he’d been expecting to be friends with Omi anyway, if he wanted to be a reticent shit then that was his prerogative. Yes, he knew what prerogative meant. Probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, bye,” Atsumu said, and spun on his heel, and left - walking back towards his own apartment, which hopefully wasn’t the same way Omi was going. It wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu thought, as he walked. The sun wasn’t strong, but it wasn’t cloudy, either. The city was whispering, more than yelling today, and it matched Atsumu’s mood. He’d thought the hospital visit went well. Sure, they didn’t learn much, other than that oil companies were back at it with their usual shit - that wasn’t surprising.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d gotten a lead, no matter how dubious. So what was Sakusa’s issue? If he hadn’t liked how Atsumu’d dealt with the guy, he could have spoken more himself. Whatever. Whatever. He pulled out his phone and pulled up a contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yahoo~” was Oikawa’s ever-provocative answer, when he picked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, Oikawa. Watcha doin?” It was past lunch time, but Oikawa usually had a loose schedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Painting!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Uh, what? “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Painting, Atsumu, it’s where you have this brush and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what painting is, shut up, but like...why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwa-chan annoyed me, so I’m painting him. With horns and an ickle devil tail,” Oikawa snickered. “It’s ugly so far, but so is Iwa-chan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him at Oikawa’s antics. Omi’s weirdness was easy to forget when somebody as...unique as Oikawa was in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d have to get the whole story from Iwaizumi later at the gym.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not even gonna ask what he did,” Atsumu chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa’s voice got considerably darker. “Good idea.” Yikes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, uh,” Atsumu cleared his throat, “Wanna hang?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa hummed over the phone. “Yep! What did you have in mind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ended up getting drunk at 2pm and having to beg Suga (again) not to kick them out. He did anyway, but only after Atsumu dropped his fifth mimosa on the floor and laughed so hard he cried. Oikawa did a much better job pretending to be sober, but the bright flush on his cheeks said otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa walked Atsumu all the way home. “Dude, I hate day drinkin’, why did I let ya convince me?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was your idea! And I had to sit through all your repetitive complaints of, and I quote, ‘Omi’s broodin’ shoulders ‘n spiky personality’ so honestly, I’ll be relieved when I’m alone again.” Wow, </span>
  <em>
    <span>harsh</span>
  </em>
  <span> - Atsumu had trouble believing he’d actually been that bad. He wasn’t stumbling drunk, just stupider and louder than normal (which...probably made him very very stupid and very very loud, considering he was usually both anyway).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his face upwards at Oikawa and gave the most exaggerated pout he could. On cue, his eyes started filling with tears and his lower lip wobbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yooo stop!” Oikawa finally dropped his stern facade, cackling at Atsumu’s woeful expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was not that bad. Say it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, you weren’t that bad. But honestly, did you even consider asking Omi-chan what was bothering him? You said he was fine before that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just...I thought we were good, ya know? We’ve actually spent a lot of time together on all these jobs, and we work well together, and I dunno why he wouldn’t just tell me what was wrong. But no, I didn’t ask. Figured he’d tell me if he wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa just hummed. In an effort to lighten the mood back up, he said, “He’s hot though, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sooooo hot, ‘kawa, you have no idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay but, like, what flavor of hot? I got the brooding thing, but is he all stiff and unfeeling, or is he full of rage like Iwa-chan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, the first one, he’s so,” Atsumu waved his hands around to try to emulate Omi’s dispassionate nature. “I wanna jus’,” Atsumu clacked his teeth together like a hungry chipmunk. Oikawa smothered Atsumu’s face in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but like I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hate day drinkin’. I always take a nap and feel like shit at 6pm which is somehow too early ‘n also too late to do anythin’ productive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa sneered at him, tilting his chin up. It was kind of scary. “This is your fault, and I have no sympathy. I, for one, will suffer </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual repercussions</span>
  </em>
  <span> from your idiocy when I get home and I’m too tipsy to properly chastise my idiot husband.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awww, was it that bad? Do ya wanna talk ‘bout it more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I don’t. Just hit him extra hard when you fight him next, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu laughed, and agreed, then Oikawa was laughing too, then it was hard to breathe they were laughing so hard, and then Atsumu was tripping across his threshold and face-planting into his still-unmade bed while Oikawa turned - still grumbling - to go home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Atsumu woke up a couple hours later, his mouth tasted like ass (and, listen, there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>times</span>
  </em>
  <span> that that could be a good thing and now was definitely not one of them) and his head was already throbbing lightly. He kept his eyes closed as he wandered to the kitchen to down a couple glasses of water and some ibuprofen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when he went back to the couch, this time to turn his Xbox on and resume his third playthrough of the second Borderlands, his phone pinged. On it was a notification for half the bounty for one of the cases Osamu had sent him. His eyes narrowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What.” Omi already sounded grumpy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, did ya finish a job just now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And ya didn’t bring me?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not cool, dude, we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>partners</span>
  </em>
  <span> that means we do shit </span>
  <em>
    <span>together.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Atsumu did his best to sound like he was chastising a child, which was kind of what it felt like. A large, intimidating, child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi sighed on the other side. His voice was a little softer when he said, “I needed to blow off some steam. I didn’t think you’d care.” Well, at least he’d thought of Atsumu a little bit, even if he’d reached the wrong conclusion. They’d worked together enough by now, over the last month or so, that he thought their partnership was a given. He tried to pretend he wasn’t slightly offended that Omi hadn’t brought him along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu gave up being angry, at a record-breaking twenty seconds into a conversation. “Well shit, I know what that’s like. But still,” his voice got quieter, “Bring me with, ‘kay? I don’t like splittin’ up.” He hated how vulnerable he sounded, and he was glad when Omi didn’t ask for an explanation. He didn’t even know what he’d say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence on the other side for a moment. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu let out a - hopefully silent - sigh of relief that Omi hadn’t fought him on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’d ya give me half, anyway? I wasn’t even there,” Atsumu asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot our accounts are linked. It was a cheap job though, it’s no big deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, do ya think I’m some sorta charity case?! Take that shit back, Omi, I can make my own damn money!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you done yelling? I’ll set my phone down again if you want to bark more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyebrow twitched. This asshole. He opened his mouth to reply, but Omi spoke before he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Miya,” he said, and then the line cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, what was </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> people and hanging up before the conversation is over? He narrowed his eyes. With a few taps of his fingers on the cold screen of his phone, he’d sent the money back to Omi with a middle finger emoji. There was no response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked the time - 7pm, a little later than he’d thought he’d sleep, but altogether not the worst he could have done after four and a half drinks in the early afternoon. Between dinner and the gym, he’d rather go to the gym, but Osamu’s ghostly face floated in his hindbrain. That was the only reason he stopped by a convenience store on the way and packed three onigiri away without really chewing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gym smelled like sweat when he walked inside. Tiny drops of water clung to his sneakers from the dewy streets and his eyelashes felt damp. Inside the building was humid; the windows were cracked ostensibly to get some air flow but it really just made the air moist and carried the scent of sweat farther.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t find Iwa - who was probably either fighting with or having makeup sex with his husband by now - but the gym was pretty full regardless. In the corner, he saw Ymir coaching the blond woman through some exercises and generally being a hopeless gay. Atsumu couldn’t relate - he didn’t consider himself hopeless at all, even if he hadn’t gotten laid in over a year. To be fair, it was mostly by choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed at the gym until his skin was covered in sweat, his arms ached, and he couldn’t think anymore. About anything. Then he walked home as the moon rose above the tops of buildings and went to sleep before his mind could come online again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He woke up to a phone call, which was rare. Usually he did the dialing. It was Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” He tried to say, but wasn’t sure his mouth opened far enough to make it intelligible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miya. Are you ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready for what.” His eyes closed again and he stuffed the phone between his face and the pillow so he didn’t have to hold it up with his sore arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re talking to the fae today. Did you forget?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, nah, I didn’t forget. I’ll uh,” he pulled his face away from the phone and smacked his gross morning lips. 6:47am. Omi was a prick. “I’ll be ready in a bit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you phrase that like a question,” Omi said, hypocritically (considering his inflectionless tone).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t?” Okay, that time was for the lols but Omi didn’t have to know that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be at your house in seven minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“whAt OMI!” Well Atsumu was certainly awake now, heart skipping with adrenaline. Luckily he’d showered the night before, so he didn’t have to this morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crawled out of bed like death incarnate, all elbows and knees, and tripped into the doorframe of his bathroom. His hair was styled into an undercut, but the longer top part was fluffy as </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> and sticking out every way. He tilted his head. He kind of looked like a flat-top mushroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have time to really fix his hair so he just wet it and slicked it back on his head. Then he stuck a backwards hat on it, even though it made him look like a frat boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled on pants and went to brush his teeth, but a knock sounded before he could get ready the rest of the way. And that’s how he saw Omi for the first time that day; barefoot, naked from the waist up, douche-hat on, and foamy lips with a toothbrush sticking out one side of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to smirk around the toothbrush but it probably didn’t work. Not that Omi was looking at his mouth anyway, though...and wasn’t that interesting? Atsumu snapped his fingers and said, “Eyes up here, Omi” like the jackass he knew he could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked more disgruntled at the fact that he’d been staring at Atsumu’s abs (yeah, Atsumu knew he was ripped, he couldn’t blame the guy) than the fact that Atsumu was so unprepared for their day. His skin heated as he felt Omi’s eyes trace over his tattoos, his muscles, the hand he used to self-consciously scratch his shoulder (wait no, stop that).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, THEN, Omi had the audacity to meet Atsumu’s eyes with an unimpressed look as if he hadn’t literally eye-fucked his whole body in a way that definitely made him twitch in his pants. Honestly, this guy was so rude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you’re wearing?” Omi said, finally, with what looked like a hint of a smirk above his mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t grace him with a response, just went back to his room to spit his toothpaste in the sink and put on the top half of his outfit. He tried to shake the feeling leftover from Omi’s gaze, but was unable to. Considering the tightness in his pants, his body hadn’t minded the attention one bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came back out to the living room, Omi was examining his collection of dirty cups on the coffee table with a raised eyebrow, but didn’t comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why ya here so early, Omi?” Atsumu asked as he locked the door behind them. Omi was already a couple steps ahead of him, and he had to lengthen his strides to catch up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woke up early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shrug. Well, okay then. “Didja hafta wake me up early too?” Atsumu purposefully made his voice as whiny as it could go. From the tiny cringe Omi gave, it worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you wanted to solve this case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I could’ve eaten breakfast first, ya animal.” Omi flinched a little. What, at the animal comment? Nah, must have been the cold. It was exceptionally crisp out, the city having dipped near freezing overnight. If Atsumu took the time to squint, he could see teeny ice crystals dangling from the fingertips of moss that crept along the sides of the streets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not really my problem,” was all Omi said in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya know what? This just means we gotta stop for breakfast!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, that wasn’t a request. We’re stopping for breakfast whether ya wanna eat or not.” This was not debatable for Atsumu. Never mind the fact he frequently forgot to eat breakfast and generally had a shaky understanding of healthy eating, he wasn’t about to be woken up early for his </span>
  <em>
    <span>job</span>
  </em>
  <span> without some sort of reward. Ideally the kind that came with a big, American helping of home fries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...They compromised with a smoothie shop, since apparently Omi couldn’t be fucked to sit the fuck down and eat a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> - it was whatever, it was fine. Atsumu got extra protein powder in his and flat-tired Omi on the way out to show his dissatisfaction in the most petty, passive way he could think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he got to see Omi eat something, for once, he’d been starting to wonder if the guy just sapped his energy from the sun or some shit. Or maybe he drank </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood</span>
  </em>
  <span> like some sorta, was he a vampire? - his thoughts got derailed when Omi poked his straw up under his mask and drank his smoothie that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weirdo, Atsumu thought with an undercurrent of fondness, the guy was a weirdo. Must be something wrong with his face. Maybe he had a horrible mustache under there? Or, like, no lips? Nah, that sounded less likely. Atsumu squinted, trying to picture Omi with a beard, until Omi’s hand shot out and smacked him in the face. It was gentle, but surprising enough that Atsumu tripped off the curb and got honked at by a passing car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omiiiii that was so mean,” he lamented, pouting even as he stuck his straw back in his mouth. Omi seemed unaffected, but Atsumu caught a quiet chuckle that matched his crinkling eyes. Gods, his laugh was cute. Atsumu wanted to see his smile for real, but he had a feeling he’d have to earn it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae quarters were in the eastern-most part of the city. Many fae’s magic gravitated towards elemental, and Atsumu liked the idea of the sun greeting them first every day even though that’s not why the city was situated how it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reality was that the east portion of the city was closer to the docks, which were notoriously dirty and foul. The property prices were lower, so many immigrants and refugees over the years had settled along the quick stretch of coast. While laws no longer existed that restricted housing or employment based on nationality or race, the demographics of the city had stayed largely the same as when it had been regulated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only exception was the underground, which attracted shady characters regardless of their background or story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they got closer to the area of the city they were looking for, Atsumu was surprised that Omi stayed relaxed. He’d expected him to get tense and irritable, like he’d been in the underground, but he didn’t. He just kept walking silently slightly ahead of Atsumu, who had the pleasure of watching Omi’s ass shift in his black jeans with every step. He tried not to salivate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few things that alerted them to the fact that they’d crossed the border into the fae section. For one, the atmosphere shifted away from the concrete jungle vibe the rest of the city had going on. Plants trailed from most windows, and the ever-present moss on the streets crept along dirt paths rather than paved ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was more crowded, too. Most of the city had an empty feel that had nothing to do with how many people there were - as if every person existed alone, instead of alongside countless others. Steam puffed from various street vendors’ stalls, tracking up through the early morning sunlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first glance, Atsumu thought it was bustling - happy, even. Once he looked harder though, he realized something else. Despite the chaos of the crowded street, the air had a suffocating feel. Most windows were closed tight, even though it was nice out. The people in the street weren’t hanging around or chatting, they were walking to or from something with their heads tilted towards their feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no children that he could see, no laughter or joviality. “S’it always like this?” Atsumu asked Omi, tugging slightly on the back of his jacket. Omi stopped and pulled him next to a building. His eyes were searching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, I thought it would be...happier or some shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because fae have a reputation of being happy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant. I just mean,” Atsumu gestured to the scene around them, “I just feel like there’s somethin’ wrong here?” He didn’t know how else to phrase it. Omi’s eyes were guarded, but not unkind. “Nobody’s made eye contact with me this whole time, like they’re scared of me or somethin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi scoffed. “As if you could scare anyone.” Atsumu narrowed his eyes at his partner, feeling righteously affronted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I can be scary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scary people usually don’t have to say that, though, do they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes bugged. “Whatever! I ain’t gotta prove shit to ya. And ya didn’t even answer my question, dumbass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it wasn’t always like this.” Omi sounded sad, but Atsumu wasn’t sure. “It used to be more like what you were probably expecting. Flowers and light magic and little floating lanterns.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t know what to say to that, or to the strangely emotional tone his partner inflected his words with. He didn’t know the first thing about this community, but it seemed like Omi did. He didn’t want to push it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the plan, anyway? Who would even know anythin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi gave him an unimpressed look, which Atsumu didn’t think was very fair. He’s actually very impressive in his opinion. “We’re meeting someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! And ya didn’t tell me?! Omi, what the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m telling you now. Come on, I don’t want to be late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu grumbled to himself but followed all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The person they ended up meeting was a very old woman named Lin, who sat them next to the kitchen and talked to them in between serving tea and the occasional hot bun to her customers. Atsumu cradled his cup in his hands and tried not to have an aneurism at the fact that Omi was friends with a tiny old fae lady whose fangs practically gleamed every time she smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that Atsumu had </span>
  <em>
    <span>forgotten</span>
  </em>
  <span> that fae have pronounced canines, per say, but being reminded of them thanks to a teeny old lady - probably a grandmother, based on the way she kept pinching Atsumu’s cheek a little too hard - was enough to surprise him to say the least. Her pointed ears were harder to miss, stuck up as they were through the loose hair that she’d put into a bun on top of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lin had a habit of lifting one lip to reveal the corner of her left fang when she didn’t like something, like some leftover threatening grimace from olden times. She did it again, when she said “Now I know my rat-bastard son hates those oil people more than anything, but I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>assure you</span>
  </em>
  <span> he would have told me if he’d been fuckin’ around and killing people. If only so I knew what to say to the cops if they ever showed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was very much not used to old people swearing. He kind of liked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand. Thank you for speaking with us, Lin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell, Kiyoomi, no need to be so polite! The thing I’m mad about,” her lip curled again, “Is that I haven’t seen you in </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you only just came around to ask about my damn son!” Omi flinched slightly enough that Atsumu wouldn’t have noticed it had he been staring anywhere other than directly at the guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I will stop by more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lin looked dubious. “Well, that was easy. Don’t forget, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They returned their tea cups and went to leave, but Lin spoke again. This time she was hesitant, but the look in her eyes was fierce. “Listen, Kiyoomi. There is a place that might have more answers. I can’t say for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi cocked his head, waiting. “You remember Skag’s boat? Nasty fuckin’ thing, surrounded by vermin?” She asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s eyebrows drew together and he nodded slowly. Lin just pursed her lips and nodded back, then walked back through the flaps to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that was ominous,” Atsumu commented, once they were back outside. Omi didn’t answer at first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he did answer, a couple moments later, all he said was, “We need to be careful. Skag is a very dangerous person, and they might be holding a grudge against me right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaddya mean might?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it, it’s probably fine.” There were few phrases that would make Atsumu worry </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> but go off, Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The streets got less busy as they walked, and darker, like the sun itself didn’t feel like hanging around those corners. Atsumu knew there was a red light district around here - it was the only place around here he’d visited, because more than a few of his marks had spent time there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sex work was one of the stereotypes associated with the magical creatures and immigrants that lived around here, but it wasn’t an untrue one - many foreigners had been pushed towards it simply because of the stigma that made it hard for them to find other work in a city that favored humans. It gave Atsumu a bad taste in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They neared the edge of the city, where the docks met the water with a cacophony of slip-slaps and gull cries. There was no one in sight, now. Turning to look at Omi, Atsumu saw his shoulders hunched up towards his ears - not enough to be obvious if you didn’t know what he looked like normally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His steps didn’t slow as they broke from the tall buildings and crossed over to where a horde of boats lay tethered. Some were extravagant, ornately carved and painted, others looked like rich-people yachts with their own staff. Still others were small houseboats, with plants growing in roof racks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wound their way through the harbor, Atsumu ogling every boat he saw, until they reached the ship they were looking for. Atsumu only knew they’d found it because Omi stopped and craned his neck up to look the whole thing over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looked old, like some pirate ship from medieval times. The sails were all furled in a way that made the masts look like a gaping skeleton. Despite the fact that it would have looked less out-of-place on the high seas shooting cannonballs (or something, Atsumu didn’t know), the boat was decked out like a building of sorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trailing plants grew up out of the water and over the railings, making it look like the water was reclaiming it somehow, with green leafy tentacles. There was a string of little lanterns that looped around the boat that made it appear deceptively homey and warm. Atsumu wondered how many people lived here, if it functioned like a tiny block of apartments, or if it was just some sort of criminal workplace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he was assuming Skag was a criminal considering all the hush-hush treatment by Omi and Lin. Or maybe they were just scary? Or mean? Atsumu could understand being afraid of mean people - he was, deep in his heart, a pacifist. Okay maybe that wasn’t quite true but he didn’t like using violence needlessly. Unless it was aimed at Osamu. Or - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop right there.” The command came from the boat, and was directed at Omi, who’d been approaching a ladder on the side of the boat. He stepped back. “Who are you?” the disembodied voice asked. It was light, and strangely melodic. Atsumu assumed they were a woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu. We’re here to talk to Skag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shuffled over to Omi and kept his mouth shut. He craned up to try to see the person talking, but all he could see was the dark shadow of the huge boat above him. Past that, the midday sky was blue and sunny, but not too hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” The voice came again, and Atsumu heard footsteps retreating up on the ship. It was eerily quiet. He couldn’t hear any voices, just the gentle rocking of the boat on the water and the cry of gulls around. Crouching, he looked into the dark water. He didn’t see anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The person was back quickly. “You can come up,” the voice called. Atsumu followed Omi up the ladder and tried not to think about how they’d get back down quickly if the need arose. When he peeked his head over the top, it was to the sight of Omi leaning away from the woman, who was leering at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Been a long time, Kiyoomi. I’m surprised Skag let you up at all.” Omi sure had a lot to explain later, but Atsumu tried to be patient for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mei, you’re as pleasant as ever,” Omi responded, leaning even farther away. She sniffed him and laughed. “Jeez, you even smell like them now! And what’s with the mask, you -” Omi smacked his hand against Mei’s mouth, a warning flashing in his eyes. Atsumu narrowed his own eyes at the scene, wishing Omi had filled him in better before bringing him here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not here for you. We need to speak with Skag.” Omi said it politely, but with an undercurrent of irritation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Mei was offended, she didn’t show it. She just turned around with a beckoning wave and led them farther into the ship. The deck they were on looked comfortable, with a table and chairs near one railing and a sort of awning over half of it that probably kept out the rain. It looked like a nice place to hang out, if it belonged to anybody else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were other people - fae - there, but they kept their distance, watching from the sides. Most had weapons, which Atsumu tried not to focus on. As they went farther, Atsumu couldn’t help the feeling that Omi was leading him closer and closer to the mouth of a lion’s den. It strained the amount of trust Atsumu had in his partner, made him second-guess his comfort with the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless of his misgivings, on they walked. Mei led them down some stairs to a cabin at the back of the ship. It was darker inside, and the wood smelled like salt and damp cloth. Mei knocked on the door. “Kiyoomi and his friend,” she announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu must have missed whatever command came from within, but Mei heard it and opened the door to let them through. She stayed outside. Skag sat with their back to a large window that spilled light into the room. There was a rug on the floor, and a couple shelves with books and plants on the walls, but other than that it was largely empty. Skag sat behind a big desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had been half-expecting them to have boot-clad feet propped on the table and a knife in hand to peel an apple that they’d eat from the blade. None of that happened, to his disappointment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag looked tired, but maybe that was just their face. Their smile was wry and sharp when they saw Omi, and it revealed sharp canines - maybe the behavior was more common among fae than Atsumu realized. “I was wondering what you were doing sniffing around, Kiyoomi. Should have known you’d come visit little old me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag’s tone freaked Atsumu out, like they’d been watching Omi and Atsumu since they first stepped into fae territory and Atsumu had never noticed. He didn’t like feeling out of control, and this situation was quickly reaching that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Skag. It’s been awhile,” Omi responded. Okay, the longer this went on the more curious Atsumu was becoming. And the more irritated at being led into this blind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag nodded to themself. “So? What are you doing here? I assume you want something from me, or you wouldn’t be here.” Their tone wasn’t dismissive, but it could hardly be called curious either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi glanced at Atsumu, which surprised him. What could he possibly have to offer here? “We’re on a job.” Skag waved their hand, as if to say “what of it.” “Have you heard about the murders?” Skag sat up straighter at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which murders?” They asked. Atsumu had to fight the urge to laugh because yeah, fair, there were always murders and murderers and bounty hunters after them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oil company, warehouses burned, Nekoma, those murders.” Skag nodded, but didn’t say anything. Omi continued, “We’re supposed to track down the killers, and Lin said you might know something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s this?” Skag asked, jerking their head at Atsumu and completely ignoring Omi’s prompt. Omi nodded to Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu, pleased ta meetcha.” Skag didn’t reply, just kept staring at Atsumu, so he continued. “Uh, I’m twenty-five, born south of the city but been livin’ here since I was ten, my favorite color’s p -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant, who are you to Kiyoomi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well maybe ya shoulda </span>
  <em>
    <span>said that</span>
  </em>
  <span> then. We’re partners,” Atsumu reached out an awkward hand to pat Omi’s shoulder. He didn’t look like he liked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag’s eyes narrowed. “I have some information that might help, but I’ll only tell it to you, Kiyoomi. You,” they turned to Atsumu, “need to leave.” What?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? That doesn’t make sense, we’re workin’ it together and anythin’ ya can tell him ya can tell me, too. Right Omi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi didn’t answer right away, and when Atsumu looked to him for backup, Omi wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Skag, eyes narrowed. Whatever secret conversation they had, Skag seemed to win it, since the next moment Omi turned - finally - to Atsumu and said “You should leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, why?” Neither of them answered. Atsumu felt his hands clench and his teeth grit. “I ain’t leavin’ ya here alone, Omi. It’s not safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s eyes narrowed sharply at him. “Not all fae are vicious murderers, Atsumu. If Skag wanted me dead, I would be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know it</span>
  </em>
  <span> Omi. Everybody here has a gun, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> were the one that said it was sketchy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and I’ve changed my mind. You should leave. Go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Enraged and incredulous, Atsumu had no choice but to listen. What was he going to do, throw a fit in some stranger’s dingy boat-office? If Omi got hurt doing this after sending him away, Atsumu was never going to let him hear the end of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t try to argue again, just turned and left - back through the door, which he shut softly behind him, down the hallway, past the various armed guards, around Mei who was openly laughing at him, and down the ladder. His earlier worry that they’d have to somehow jump off the boat had proven unfounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t even know what to do with himself now. He made his way back from the fae side of town slowly, and was stuck in his head the whole time. His anxieties were multifaceted. He hadn’t wanted a partner in the first place because he didn’t want them getting hurt. To avoid that, he’d decided he just wouldn’t give a shit about Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evidently, he had little control over his feelings for other people. Even though he’d only known Omi a little while, he kinda liked him. Not a ton, not a weird amount, but enough that he was worried about his partner back there alone even with the history he obviously shared with those people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond that, Atsumu was kind of offended. He didn’t like that Omi was keeping secrets, when Atsumu himself had been nothing but trustworthy. If anything, it just reminded him of the wall between them. A wall that even he wanted to, couldn’t be brought down by him alone. He only realized he was mumbling his complaints out loud when a nearby rock told him to shut up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever. It was stupid. Stupid to care, stupid of Omi, and stupid that he was still thinking about it by the time he was pushing open the door to the gym a little harshly. Hopefully he could convince Ymir to beat the shit out of him - hell knew he’d enjoy it as much as she would.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sakusa talks to real people instead of rocks, unlike Atsumu</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa sees an old friend. Atsumu sees a new one. They meet some friends and ignore some feelings.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi! So, this is the part where things get darker. Mind the tags. CW for trafficking, animal neglect (brief), systemic bigotry. I don't go into detail in this chapter, but I might later. Consider this your warning and if you're worried about getting triggered, feel free to stop reading at any time. I don't want you to hurt yourself.</p><p>I do want to leave a disclaimer here, as well. Many aspects of the hatred towards fae (and other groups, probably) in this fic will parallel real life, in a variety of ways. This does NOT mean that I wanted it to be directly applicable to real systems of oppression be they racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, etc. Sure, there's commentary here, but I am not nearly educated enough to do justice to these topics as they exist in our world. Hence, fiction. Hence, made up species. Some aspects are similar, some are not. If it resonates with you, let it. If it doesn't, don't @ me for it - it isn't supposed to be about real life. Feel free to find me on tumblr (rueshe) if you want to talk about anything!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So. What are you doing surrounding yourself with humans?” was the first question out of Skag’s mouth after Atsumu left. Their voice was the same as always, and they wore the same cargo pants and jacket, but their hair was noticeably longer - it used to fall around their ears, but now it was tied back into a loose ponytail. Skag looked as good as Sakusa remembered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa grimaced. “The people in my life happen to be humans. I’m not seeking them out, nor am I avoiding the fae, if that’s what you were assuming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s an assumption, it’s a reasonable one. We haven’t spoken once since you left, and from what I’ve heard, you only visit the fae quarters to spend time at the shelter. Seems to me, you’ve forgotten where you came from, Kiyoomi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t. How could he? He remembered what it was like growing up here, learning how the rest of the city viewed his species, losing first his dad and then his mom - one by violence and one by neglect. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know why I left, Skag. And I don’t regret it. I make more money now than I ever could if I’d stayed - money I send right back to the shelter, so to be honest, I’m not sure where your resentment is coming from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because that’s what the expression on their face was: resentment, and maybe grief. But ultimately, Skag understood - Sakusa knew they did, because the night he’d left they’d stayed up all night talking, and he’d known that Skag supported him. So, what had changed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you’d be walking out of our lives for good, Kiyoomi! I thought sure, get a job, hide behind your mask, but I didn’t think I wouldn’t be talking to you for </span>
  <em>
    <span>five years.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa blinked, surprised. “Forgive me for missing you a little, gods,” they said, letting out a sigh at the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That surprised Sakusa again. He’d essentially been an employee to Skag, those years ago. A close one, sure. He’d been closer to Skag than he’d been to anyone, before Bokuto and Akaashi, but he’d never known Skag would view his departure as anything other than losing their favorite weapon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know,” was all Sakusa could think to reply. Because he hadn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well. It wouldn’t have changed anything.” Wouldn’t it have, though? Could Sakusa still have left if he’d known? Probably, he knew. Skag was probably right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have reached out too, Skag.” Communication was a two-way street, as Bokuto always liked to fondly inform Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag looked sad, but then the expression faded and careful neutrality replaced it. “Are the humans treating you well, at least?” they asked in a polite tone. “Do any of them even know you’re fae?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he replied, and thinking of his two best friends made him smile, “Two of them know. My friends, they...I didn’t know there were people like that, until I met them. I didn’t know anyone could be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag did smile at that, a genuine if small one. “And that guy? Your new partner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Sakusa hesitated. “I don’t know. I haven’t told him, but I was planning to until -” Skag waved at him to go on. “One of the victims of this group we’re tracking down was sure that fae had done it. Called them fairies, talked about how violent we are. And Atsumu didn’t say anything, he didn’t seem bothered at all. So, now I’m not sure how he feels. And I don’t intend to out myself before I know how he feels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag’s eyes narrowed at that and they shifted forward slightly in their seat. “Makes sense,” they said. “But he hasn’t given you reason to believe he hates the fae? How long have you known him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Around a month. He’s rough, and a bit of an asshole, but I thought he was good.” Sakusa tried to think back. He knew Atsumu found personal fulfilment from bringing in bad guys, like Sakusa did, and that he didn’t bat an eye at Sakusa lying to the police about Yuki. He also knew that if Nekoma were indeed fae, the fact that they killed Hinata could easily affect Atsumu’s opinion of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter, I’m handling it. If he proves that he’s safe, I’ll tell him. Otherwise, I won’t,” Sakusa said. Skag nodded thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d tell you to be safe, but I guess that’s pointless, isn’t it?” Skag asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably.” Sakusa smiled softly. For all the years they’d spent apart, it was nice to be around Skag again. That kind of history didn’t just go away. Whereas Sakusa would normally be uncomfortable sharing so much about himself, Skag had earned his trust years ago. He hadn’t known how he’d be received, or if Skag would be holding a grudge, but it was clear they weren’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, all right. For what it’s worth,” Skag paused, “I’m glad you’ve found some of your people. Even if they aren’t us.” Sakusa was glad, too. Even so, it was nice being around other fae for once. He reached up and pulled his mask off, revealing his mouth in a way he couldn’t when he was in public, in the city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag smiled at Sakusa’s reveal, the corner of one of the fangs dipping into their lower lip. Sakusa smiled back, showing his own smaller fangs in return. It felt good to be visible, just this once, even though he knew he’d have to put the mask back on when he left. For now, though, they could sit and talk and pretend the whole city didn’t hate them for those fangs and pointed ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you might know something about Nekoma,” Sakusa reminded them, finally getting at the reason he was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag’s face darkened. “It’s really bad,” they said, “And I don’t even know if they’re related. But I’ve been hearing troubling things.” Sakusa waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is all very hush-hush, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard. We don’t know what would happen if we made the information public. But...we’ve had an influx of fae refugees recently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyebrows furrowed. Fae refugees weren’t rare, so why -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They claim they were held captive by people who kept them in cages and took blood from them every day.” Sakusa felt his stomach clench. It was a closely guarded secret that fae blood was a potent source of magic. For humans to have learned it, and started </span>
  <em>
    <span>taking their blood</span>
  </em>
  <span> - Sakusa felt sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody’s told the city, for obvious reasons,” they continued. Sakusa understood. If humans learned the potency of fae blood, they had no guarantee the city would actually help them and not turn around to exploit them as well. “There are some survivors, or we wouldn’t know any of this. But there’s no telling how many others are out there right now. None of the survivors knew where they were or how they got there, just that their captors were killed and they were freed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s head was reeling. He felt himself withdraw, the subconscious coping mechanism he hadn’t felt in years, until everything around him felt muted and fuzzy, distancing him from his own emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is this connected to Nekoma?” He heard himself ask. He intended to do something about the fae trafficking whether or not it was connected to his job, but if there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a connection, he needed to know it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s the thing. I think Nekoma might be the ones who rescued the survivors.” Skag waited for Sakusa to put the pieces together, which didn’t take long. He was on the wrong side. He’d taken a job to kill the people who were fighting the fae traffickers. And he didn’t know whether Atsumu knew or not. At the hospital, listening to Hank spew his opinion of the fae, Sakusa had had to keep a tight hold on his temper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d ended up going out that night, just as a way to expend his angry energy. He hadn’t failed to notice that Atsumu never contradicted Hank, but he hadn’t said anything to agree with him either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu hadn’t said anything that indicated that he knew there was another level to all of this. But the job had come from Osamu - did he know? Or was the situation so well-kept by the fae survivors that the only people who knew anything were other fae? Everything felt muted. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and tried to focus on his breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also had to deal with how he felt about Atsumu. At the very least, he knew the other man cared about him. He hadn’t wanted to leave Sakusa alone with Skag, in unfamiliar territory. He’d also proven to be somewhat clingy - not excessively, just to the point of calling and texting Sakusa more than he had to for their job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had grown on him. He enjoyed how straightforward the other man was, how uncomplicated despite Atsumu’s best efforts to hide his pain with jokes and crudeness. They’d been getting closer, but not close enough for Sakusa to say with any certainty how Atsumu would react to all this information. In fact, Atsumu being as straightforward as he was made it all the more worrying that he hadn’t said anything about Hank’s behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was worried about him, and Sakusa had told him to fuck off. The best he could do would be to scope out the situation and decide later whether or not to tell Atsumu what he’d learned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa barely remembered thanking Skag and leaving the boat, his footsteps jolting up his joints and spine with every step on the dirt, then the concrete, then the cobblestones near his house. Skag had offered to let him stay awhile, but Sakusa had declined. He needed to be alone, or perhaps with Akaashi, until his head didn’t feel so wrapped in cotton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he got to his door, he stared at it instead of going in. The sun was lowering, he’d spent most of the day in the fae quarter, and he suddenly didn’t want to be alone. He closed his eyes and tasted salt and when he opened them again he was on Bokuto’s familiar couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment was empty, but he could hear voices from through the floorboards. He shuffled to the bedroom, draped a thin blanket across his shoulders, and made his way downstairs into Owl and Orchid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This one?” he heard through the door, while he was making his way down the stone steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Koutarou, the red one.” Sakusa smiled slightly behind his mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple seconds later. “This one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. The other red - Never mind, I’ll get it.” Akaashi sounded fond and exasperated at the same time. It was a normal tone of voice for him, Sakusa knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiiijiiiiii you didn’t say there was more than one!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa opened the door very slowly so it wouldn’t hit the loud bell over the door. The shop smelled the same as always, like dirt and petrichor and books.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi and Bokuto didn’t notice him until he was right next to them, but neither startled at his presence. Bokuto clued in immediately and wrapped Sakusa - blanket and all - in a tight hug. And kissed his cheek, which made Sakusa’s face heat a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had a plant in each hand, cupping the dirt-clumped roots in his strong fingers. His gaze was impossibly soft when it landed on Sakusa and his blanket. Given by the mess, they were in the middle of something. Sakusa had to tamp down the voice in his head that was telling him he was interrupting, burdening, inconveniencing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Kiyoomi. Want to help us replant all these?” Akaashi tilted his head at the row of little plants. Some had tiny flower buds, but most were just young and green. Bokuto still hadn’t dropped the hug, and Sakusa was secretly grateful. The warmth of Bokuto’s arms and the softness of the blanket on his skin were helping ground him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded. Bokuto finally let him go and flipped the shop’s sign to ‘closed.’ They were going to close in a half an hour anyway, so Sakusa didn’t feel too bad. When Bokuto came back he gently tugged Sakusa’s mask off, one ear at a time, since Sakusa’s hands were buried in his burrito blanket wrap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Helping” ended up being Sakusa perched on the table, knees drawn tight under his chin, with the blanket wrapped around his whole body while he watched the other two bicker and work. Bokuto was in charge of sliding a popsicle stick around the dirt to loosen it and pull the baby plant out without breaking its roots, then gently crumbling some of the dirt away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was in charge of putting new dark soil in the bigger pots and planting. Sakusa watched. Akaashi held out his hand, into which Bokuto placed a plant. He pinched the stalk gently, the tender roots splayed out across his dirty palm. Sakusa wanted to be that plant, just a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scent of blood startled Sakusa from his daze and it took him a moment to realize nothing was wrong. “These ones need a little extra food,” Akaashi explained. He was sprinkling the new soil with droplets of blood from his own finger, and Sakusa saw the little red plant shiver gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held out his finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi paused where he’d been just starting to lower a new plant into another pot. His eyebrows knit together and he frowned. “Kiyoomi, are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded and kept his finger pointed towards Akaashi. His skin was pale, his knuckles red. He could see his veins under his skin, just barely. Bokuto watched them as Akaashi took Sakusa’s hand gently in one of his own and used his other hand to wield a sharp little tool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prick barely hurt, but the pain drew Sakusa a little further out of his clouded head. He watched a large drop of blood swell and then Akaashi tilted Sakusa’s hand to let it fall down into the roots of the tiny plant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sucked it up immediately, staining the roots and spreading upward into the leaves. Another drop, and another. The plant shivered, the leaves turning a darker red. Sakusa wondered what his magic blood would do to the plant. He withdrew his finger and stuck the tip in his mouth until it stopped bleeding. Bokuto’s eyes were wide and he held out his own finger with a loud, “Me next!” that made the other two laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you’ll do it when Kiyoomi’s here, but not when I asked you last time?” Bokuto had the decency to look embarrassed at Akaashi’s admonishment, but it was undermined by his bright smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s more fun when he’s here!” The warm feeling in Sakusa’s chest spread, and he was almost able to forget, for a time, what he’d learned that afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d already decided not to tell his friends about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them; out of anyone, he knew these two would be understanding and supportive in any way he needed. And part of him wanted that support. But the other part of him knew two things:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, whether or not Nekoma was helping fae escape, they’d killed Hinata. Bokuto was just getting closer to his old self and smiling easier, and Sakusa didn’t want to hurt him by implying that the people who murdered his friend could be the good guys in the bigger picture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Second, telling them wouldn’t change anything. Logically speaking, Sakusa would be in the same position but with a hurting Bokuto. It seemed obvious, when he phrased it like that to himself, that he was better off staying silent and letting them comfort him without knowing the whole truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was enough that they would hug him and make him laugh and not look twice at his canines. That Akaashi would sit him down in front of the couch later and braid his longer hair into a little crown that exposed the pointed tips of his ears and never ask him questions he didn’t want to answer. He’d reconsider telling them later, once he knew more about the whole situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finished planting eventually. Sakusa stayed curled on the table while they swept up the extra dirt, watered the plants, and turned the lights off in the shop. When they trailed up the stairs one after another, nobody mentioned that it wasn’t really late enough to go to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t resist at all when they pushed him into their bathroom with a set of pajamas. Showering helped, and by the time he was crawling into their queen bed between them, Sakusa almost felt normal again. He knew when he woke up it would be with a clear head and his usual disposition - strong, apathetic, and intent. Until then, though, he’d enjoy the low drone of their voices as he drifted off to sleep.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke up second, with Akaashi’s chest pressed tight against his back. Bokuto was gone, probably on his morning run - the man rose before the sun every day, on accident, with the energy of a thousand children. It was best he burned some of it off every day before interacting with other people, Sakusa knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you feeling better?” Akaashi’s morning-husky voice rumbled against the back of Sakusa’s neck and he could feel the vibrations of Akaashi’s voice against his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Thank you, I feel much better.” It was true. Whatever traces of dissociation had followed him into sleep were gone now; he felt back in his body and able to confront reality in a way he hadn’t felt able to do yesterday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s solid body behind him was making heat pool in Sakusa’s stomach, but he ignored it. His relationship with the two had never turned sexual, regardless of how close they were. He knew they were all happy with their friendship the way it was, and had no desire to change it. It didn’t change his body’s natural response to being spooned by someone as attractive as Akaashi, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi nuzzling the back of Sakusa’s neck also definitely was not helping the pants situation he was going to have to deal with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Akaashi responded, “Do you want to talk about anything?” It was tactful, Sakusa thought, to wait until Bokuto was gone to ask. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Bokuto; sometimes it was just easier to talk to Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if he didn’t want to tell them everything, there was one thing Akaashi could possibly help with. “Do you know how Atsumu feels about fae?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi hummed lightly. “Is that what’s bothering you? You don’t have to tell him about yourself until you’re comfortable, you know. Or ever. But I think he wouldn’t have an issue. Hinata was fae, after all, and they dated for quite some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was surprised that Bokuto had never told him that, that it had never come up on its own. He supposed that it might not have been relevant, when Bokuto was grieving. It wasn’t like Sakusa was entitled to that information, per say. But knowing that definitely put his mind at ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a little spark of hope in his chest, both for the job and for his relationship with Atsumu. He’d been putting it off, since it really was no business of Atsumu’s, but it would still feel nice to be honest, he thought. Taking on this trafficking ring sounded better with his partner by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that help?” Akaashi asked, and Sakusa nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he said. His voice was still morning-raspy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi hummed in reply and dropped a light kiss to Sakusa’s cheek before getting up and pulling sweats on. He looked soft, edged in the light that came through the window. Sakusa’s heart ached, but in a good way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like pancakes?” Akaashi asked. He did this every time Sakusa stayed the night - stayed in bed until Sakusa woke up and then made him breakfast. It was a wonder Sakusa </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> in love with him at this rate. At least, not romantically. He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he ate his blueberry pancakes, he thought. He thought hard enough that Akaashi reached across the counter to smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how much to tell Atsumu - whether he should start with the truth of Nekoma and the fae, or if he should start by revealing his own half-fae heritage and feel it out from there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, maybe they should start by getting some of Sakusa’s anger out of the way with an easy job. He felt better this morning, but the rage simmered below his skin - rage towards the system and the city, towards the traffickers and criminals, to his own mother for her part so many years ago. It was the old kind of anger that would never go away, just spike when things like this happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also considered whether he’d apologize. He knew Atsumu hadn’t wanted to split up - especially after losing Hinata through his job - but Sakusa hadn’t been about to make Skag uncomfortable. And they had ended up being right about the information being too sensitive to give out freely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he knew he’d probably hurt the man’s feelings. Sakusa was certainly capable of apologizing if it meant their relationship wouldn’t have to suffer because of this. Sakusa didn’t like the thought of hurting Atsumu, no matter how necessary it had been at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was settled; he’d apologize to Atsumu, convince him to go on a job with him to get his anger out, then tell him the first piece of the truth and see where it led. Everything would be better and he could get rid of the unpleasant seed of guilt in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He washed the pancake pan and Akaashi sent him off with the promise to stop by soon again - Sakusa didn’t know why he still did that, when Sakusa had been seeing them almost every day for over a year now. Ever since the night Sakusa had stumbled into their strange shop and collapsed into a bloody heap on the floor then spent the next two weeks recovering on their couch. That had been only a few weeks before the news of Hinata’s death reached Akaashi and Bokuto and it became Sakusa’s turn to take care of them instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa realized Akaashi probably said it just to make sure he knew he was welcome. He did, now, but it had taken some convincing at first. He teleported home, blinking back the tears and the sharp smell of salt that came with it. It was still early, and Sakusa didn’t want to disturb Atsumu’s sleep this time, so he took his time cleaning his apartment a little and watering his plants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d all been gifts from Akaashi, and he was careful to never let them die. He’d taken them on as some sort of physical manifestation of his friendship, such that if one got thirsty he felt an inordinate amount of guilt about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His orchid had just begun sending up a new stalk, and his string of turtles was creeping past the windowsill trim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked the clock: 9:00. That was probably late enough, he thought. There was a small bakery located conveniently between his apartment and Atsumu’s. He felt suspicious, like some sort of guilty husband, when he bought a scone hoping it would put Atsumu in a better receiving mood. He knew Atsumu liked the berry ones, since he was munching on them constantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he left the bakery, his thoughts turned suddenly to Yachi and Kiyoko - would they be cashing in their favor any time soon? He hoped it was nothing too bad, for Atsumu’s sake. The sun was still bright as he walked, but not warm enough yet to dispel the damp chill of the morning. Sakusa’s footsteps were muffled in the alley alongside Atsumu’s apartment building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside his door, though, Sakusa hesitated. Whatever mood Atsumu was in, Sakusa hoped he wouldn’t be too offended by the day before. Then again, they were both adults, right? Surely Atsumu would see the reason in Sakusa’s behavior once he explained at least some of the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was saved from knocking, since it opened on its own. More accurately, somebody Sakusa had never seen - definitely not Atsumu - opened the door and came face-to-face with Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy looked even more surprised than Sakusa was. “Aw my bad dude,” the guy said. He was tall, but not taller than him. His jacket was in one hand, and his belt was undone even though his pants were zipped. A hat sat backwards on his head and he stank of alcohol and sweat. Overall, he was the epitome of a fuckboy and Sakusa had to rein in his sneer and the sudden urge to throat punch this stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pieces came together all too quickly, between the man’s hasty morning departure and the dark purple hickey that sat just above his shirt collar. Sakusa could smell Atsumu on him, and the thought made him sick for reasons he didn’t want to analyze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa narrowed his eyes and didn’t reply, but stepped aside to let the man out. He slipped through the door before it shut and was greeted with a sight he’d never expected. Atsumu stumbled out of his own bedroom in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, clearly not expecting company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hair was a wild mess, his eyes fuzzy with hangover, but the parts that gave Sakusa more violent thoughts towards the mystery guy on his way out were the dark red marks circling Atsumu’s wrists and the hint of a bite mark on one inner thigh that his boxers failed to cover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa suddenly wished he had a worse sense of smell. And sight. And everything that was currently perceiving what Atsumu looked like immediately post-one night stand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi?” Atsumu squinted groggily and it only took a second for him to straighten up and don a neutral, if somewhat dismissive expression. Sakusa hadn’t been aware just how open and comfortable Atsumu had been around him until it was suddenly gone and this indifference was in its place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Atsumu.” He didn’t know what else to say, and suddenly being here seemed like a bad idea. Teleporting out would be highly suspicious and also painful, since he’d already done it once this morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re ya doin’ here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa held out the pastry bag, which Atsumu didn’t take for a moment. Sakusa was relieved when he finally did, but then Atsumu just peered inside and set it on the counter. Easiest thing first: “I have some anger to work out, and last time I went on a job without you you got sad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, now ya wanna stick together?” Atsumu’s tone was sharp, but tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu turned his back and walked to the kitchen to start fiddling with his Moka pot. Dismissive Atsumu was not a look Sakusa liked at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu.” Sakusa came over to the kitchen, not wanting to talk across the room anymore. Atsumu gave him a polite smile. “After I work it off, we can talk about the job and what Skag told me. There are some things you need to know, but I need to calm down more first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu softened slightly at that, only perceptible by the drop of his shoulders and the unclenching of his jaw. He sighed and turned, finally, to face Sakusa completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still mad,” he said. Sakusa narrowed his eyes - he supposed that was fair, if a bit inconvenient for his newfound desire to drool over his partner. “And when we talk later, I wanna know </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘kay?” Sakusa nodded in response. “Besides, why’s Skag trust you so much?” Atsumu asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hesitated. He supposed this truth couldn’t hurt, especially if he really intended to trust Atsumu with everything later. Rather than talking - he was quickly becoming uncomfortable with the gentle talk - he slid one finger under the left side of his mask and slipped the loop off his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched Atsumu’s eyes widen as he curled a lip to reveal one elongated canine. “Oh,” was Atsumu’s response, “I guess that makes a lotta sense.” Then he frowned. “Ya didn’t think I’d treat ya any different, did ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa paused again. “I just didn’t know you very well. But I trust you now.” It was true, he realized, even if he hadn’t put it into words before. Atsumu had been nothing but capable during jobs, and had never hurt Sakusa in their personal lives either. Somewhere along the way Sakusa had learned he could rely on his partner, for better or for worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, he hadn’t admonished Hank, but neither had Sakusa - he made a note to talk to Atsumu about that later. For now though, Atsumu’s hard expression had shifted to a kind one that gave Sakusa the strangest urge to cry. He hated it, but only a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently having forgiven Sakusa, Atsumu snatched the scone from the counter with a look of glee. Sakusa felt proud of his weird food-giving instinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Sakusa said, once Atsumu’s mouth was full, “Who was that guy?” he gestured towards the door and got to watch Atsumu’s face turn bright red while he tried not to choke on his mouthful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just some guy I asked to fuck me ‘till I wasn’t pissed anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had been hoping it had nothing to do with him, but alas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did it work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, for a bit, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wrinkled his nose a little in distaste and tried not to look like he was picturing some nameless guy between Atsumu’s legs, holding his thighs or maybe his wrists based on the marks, tasting his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s kinda weird seein’ yer whole face now after so long with the mask. Do ya secretly smile a ton?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa glowered extra hard in reply, but privately enjoyed the new feeling too. He always felt a little naked now without the mask, but knowing his friends didn’t care always made him feel safe in some inexplicably childlike way. Not that Atsumu was his friend, necessarily. But they were getting closer, and Sakusa’s heart thudded at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa helped himself to half of the coffee Atsumu made while the other man showered and changed. When he came back out he asked, “Are ya sure ya wanna work right now? I could take ya to the gym and go a couple rounds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This guy skipped bail after charges of animal abuse.” Sakusa held up his phone to show Atsumu the file. Atsumu whistled and nodded and twirled his keys around his finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa led the way. Osamu had sent the location of the guy’s house along with the other necessary information. They’d look there first, and Sakusa could resort to sniffing him out if he’d been there recently. Now that Atsumu knew he was fae, he didn’t have to hide his enhanced senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house was old and poorly taken care of, when they got there. Much of the wooden siding had fallen off, and the roof was severely weather damaged. It was near one of the entrances to the underground, and the stink from below barely tickled Sakusa’s nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t hear anything from inside the house, and he told Atsumu as much. The other man just shrugged and walked up to the door with steady steps - it was unlocked, and swung open with a creak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instantly, loud barks sounded inside and the scrabbling of nails on the floor thundered towards them. Atsumu looked back at Sakusa with a scared look before quickly snapping the door shut again hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess those’re the animals?” Atsumu asked. “Why weren’t they taken?” That was a good question. They should have been removed when the city found out about the situation. If the dogs were dangerous, though, they might have just been put down had they been seized. Was that better than living under an abusive owner? Ideally, they could be rehomed. Maybe he could convince Bokuto and Akaashi to take one in, after all this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still can’t tell if he’s inside,” Sakusa said, walking up the dilapidated porch steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pulled his gun out and Sakusa had a moment of horror before Atsumu just double-checked the safety and put it back away. No way were either of them going to draw a gun on a dog, no matter how dangerous they were. Not when there were other options.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa crept to the window and looked inside. Two dogs stood facing the door, one big and mean-looking but young, the other slightly older and more muscled with a flat face and wobbly jowls. Both had scars littering their bodies and Sakusa felt a pang of sympathy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was just thinking of ways around the dogs when his sensitive ears picked up the sound of a door closing on the other side of the house and hurried footsteps. A human’s ears wouldn’t have been able to pick up the quiet noises, but he wasn’t human. He grinned. Perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jerking his head at Atsumu to follow, Sakusa walked quietly around the side of the house. In the spring-spongy grass, there lay a stake with two long cords attached. The collars on the end did not look comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, when they rounded the back corner, the man they were after was booking it towards the entrance to the underground. Sakusa took off running, no longer trying to sneak. He wanted to reach the man before he made it to the concrete steps that would take him to the underground where he had a better chance of escaping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left Atsumu far behind, but right now it didn’t matter. What mattered was catching up to the man and tackling him into the ground, maybe gripping his head by the hair and smashing his face into the ground once or twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People who used their power to hurt and abuse those under them - humanoid or otherwise - made his blood boil. The sound of the guy’s whimper when Sakusa finally flung him to the ground by the neck did wonders for his mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was careful not to overdo it, especially not with Atsumu watching, but it still felt good to bruise the skin of his knuckles on the guy’s high cheekbone before Atsumu came in with the cuffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?” Atsumu asked with a laugh, as if he knew exactly how Sakusa felt. Sakusa was sitting back on his heels, knees in the dirt, when he felt Atsumu’s hand on his head. A quick stroke of his fingers through Sakusa’s hair, and then they were gone, but it was all the support Sakusa could have asked for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pulled back with a quiet “shut up,” and a knee to the guy’s face - who had been yelling about how unfair this was, how they should let him go, how he could pay them. Atsumu offered Sakusa a hand up, which he took. It was really starting to feel like they were good again, like Atsumu had already forgiven him and as soon as the rest of the truth came out, they’d be good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wasn’t sure what to do about the dogs for now - he couldn’t transport them if they were aggressive, but he didn’t want to leave them alone in the house and he didn’t want the city to take them. He sent a text to Bokuto, who Sakusa was confident could be convinced to take in at least one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They took the guy - Jiro - right to the police station. Sakusa didn’t particularly like police stations, or the police, but he understood their value when it was literally his job to hand them criminals. It was more the systemic corruption that bothered him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, they were a means to an end, and Sakusa didn’t mind visiting when it was for his job. He watched with contained enjoyment as Atsumu approached the front desk with Jiro, who was still spitting insults at everyone within range.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From across the room, Sakusa heard Atsumu’s phone ring. He held it to his ear with a frown. Sakusa hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but in a moment he was glad he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come to the warehouse tonight, alone, and we’ll give you instructions from there. We sent you the address. Make sure your partner doesn’t follow.” Sakusa’s eyes widened in shock. He didn’t recognize the voice, it certainly wasn’t Osamu, but - hadn’t Skag said the captive fae were being kept in warehouses? Buildings marked abandoned? Who was talking to Atsumu, and why were they so secretive?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sour feeling crept through Sakusa’s stomach. He watched as Atsumu murmured an agreement and hung up, then went back to dealing with the cop at the desk. The phone call certainly sounded fishy, but hadn’t Atsumu just proven himself to Sakusa? Unless...if Atsumu was working with the enemy, Sakusa was in danger. More so, now that he’d told Atsumu he was fae. It made him a target.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever the situation was, he didn’t have all the answers. Not even close. And if he wanted to get them, it meant not explaining Skag’s information to Atsumu. It meant following him tonight wherever he was going, which would be hard considering the man on the phone </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> told Atsumu to be secretive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rose from the uncomfortable plastic chair and, skin numb and tingling with his heart in his feet, he slipped out the station doors before Atsumu could turn back around. It sank in as he walked - not home, Atsumu knew where that was; not to Akaashi’s; there was only one place he could go where he knew he’d be safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just hoped, fervently, that his fears were wrong. That Atsumu wasn’t working with fae traffickers. That the phone call was something other, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>other, than what it sounded like. But even as he hoped, he couldn’t convince himself that Atsumu was one of the good guys.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments and kudos are love!! Thank you for reading, feel free to tell me your thoughts.</p><p>In other news, learning about the history of eugenics in America is really depressing.</p><p>I listened to Spacegirl radio on spotify for most of this chapter because those songs feel gay and I'm gay so~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The pebble had a potty mouth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Atsumu is confused, then sad and angry, then shocked and horrified, then nothing at all.<br/>Sakusa uses his arms, but not much else.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, so, this chapter gets a lot darker. Ems told me it was a little *too* dark, so I made it slightly lighter but it's still serious stuff. Check the tags.<br/>CW for blood and needles, violence, hints of genocide and unethical experimentation / treating people how people should not be treated. If you want to know what happens but don't want to read the gnarly stuff, I'll put a little synopsis at the bottom in the end notes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Where did Omi go? One second Atsumu had been thrusting Jiro towards some cop while Omi sat across the room, and the next second Atsumu was turning around and Omi was gone. At first, Atsumu was just confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked the bathroom, meandered the halls, and walked around the building before he realized Omi definitely just left. Then, he was pissed. He was sick as fuck of being left behind by the man who was supposed to be his partner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was especially confusing since Atsumu had been sure they were becoming friends before the whole Skag thing happened. Granted, Omi had looked kinda fucked up next time they’d seen each other. So Atsumu had done the adult thing and pushed his emotions so far down he could barely taste them, and agreed to wait until Omi was ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae situation made sense, too, now that he thought about it. It made him sad that Omi felt he had to wear a mask everywhere - sadder still that he knew it was probably the right choice to avoid getting hate-crimed in this shitstain of a city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But still. Atsumu was mad. Not about the fae thing - he liked that Omi trusted him enough to tell him about himself, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t he trust him enough for the other information?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least now, thanks to Kuroo, he knew some more about the case, even if it made his stomach turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked his phone as he walked home: a text from Kuroo, just an address. He swallowed heavily. He still didn’t know how Kuroo found him, or who Kuroo was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been moping after being sent home from Skag’s when an email arrived from a blocked sender. Atsumu didn’t know that was a thing, but there it was in his inbox. The body of the email had been simple: “There’s more to your oil job than you know. I can give you answers, but you’ll need to trust me and not ask questions. There’s a warehouse you need to see. - Kuroo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well if curiosity had killed the cat, Atsumu didn’t give a fuck because that was intriguing, even if it came from some shady internet stranger. He’d replied, asking for details but nothing about Kuroo or how he knew what he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next thing he knew, he was getting a call from an unknown number with a super shady message and an address while he was at the police station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Atsumu felt the need to ask a follow up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why can’t I bring Sakusa?</span>
  </em>
  <span> he texted the number, hoping it wasn’t a landline or something. Not that Omi would want to come, after whatever this disappearing act was. Atsumu was mad again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can tell him after. I don’t want him to see it first-hand.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The reply was instantaneous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu frowned down at his phone. He guessed that was reasonable, if incredibly vague and ominous at the same time. As long as he got to tell Omi eventually; regardless of what Omi did or how he treated him, Atsumu wouldn’t want to leave his partner in the dark. Especially on a case they were working together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a couple hours, he realized when he got back into his apartment. He tried texting Omi, with no reply. Fucker. Just when he thought they were getting over Omi’s weird need to be secretive and shady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just to make sure, he stopped by Omi’s apartment. It was either empty, or Omi had incredible patience listening to Atsumu hammer at his door and whine for twenty minutes without ever opening it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he was finally leaving, he suddenly remembered he’d meant to call Kyoutani about the dogs they’d had to leave behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, Kyouken,” he said into the phone once he picked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grumbling on the other side was barely intelligible, but Atsumu thought he said something along the lines of “Don’t call me that, can’t believe fucking Oikawa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made Atsumu grin, as Kyoutani’s drama usually did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking of the dogs sobered him, though. “Heya listen, I got some dogs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...what do you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>got some dogs?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, like,” Atsumu paused to make sure he wasn’t about to get hit by a car crossing the street while on the phone, “The owner’s in jail and they prolly need a checkup and I know ya have a massive soft spot for abused animals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, who didn’t, though. “Ah, fuck, okay. Where? How many?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu gave him the information along with the hunch that they could get Bokuto to adopt at least one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool, you want the other?” And, uh, hmm. Did he? Atsumu didn’t even know if he was a dog person. He couldn’t deny it sounded kinda nice. Maybe he could introduce him to Suna, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ha.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno yet. Gimme a bit to think about it, kay? How long’ll ya have ‘em do ya think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani grunted. “Maybe a week or two, depends on them really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh, okay. Well, I’ll letcha know when I decide?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kay. I’m going now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu laughed, but the phone call cut off before he could finish and actually respond. Honestly, was it him? Why did every person he ever called hang up so fast?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the fun phone call with Kyoutani, he felt agitated and restless, which he knew could only be fixed by punching stuff. To the gym, then. If the feeling still hadn’t left by the time he got back from the mysterious warehouse, he’d probably go pick up some rando at the bar again. Meaningless sex never hurt - well, unless he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted at his own joke as he came to the doors of the gym and walked in and made a beeline to the bench at the back where Iwaizumi was spotting Oikawa and lovingly heckling him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, you’re even weaker than I thought, babe,” Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa whined. His arms were shaking slightly under the strain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuuuuck you,” Oikawa groaned out, but he successfully straightened his arms and dropped the bar back onto the hooks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsu-chan!! What brings you to this stinky place this evening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu cracked a smile despite his rather foul mood; Oikawa’s greetings were always fun. He scratched his cheek and said, somewhat sheepishly since it was actually his most common reason for coming to the gym, “Bad mood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi frowned. “Wanna beat Tooru up? I bet that would help.” Oikawa squawked and smacked his arm into Iwaizumi’s (very muscular) pec.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa sniffed. “I could take you,” he tried, but the nervous look in his eyes as he raked them from Atsumu’s head to toe told another story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I don’t use my hands, sure,” Atsumu said, prompting a loud laugh from Iwaizumi and a sound of faux outrage from Oikawa again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want me to beat you up?” Iwaizumi leered at Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, actually, that sounded… “Yeah please,” Atsumu replied. At the concerned look Iwa shared with Oikawa, Atsumu continued, “Don’t worry, I’ll fight back, though.” It would take a lot for Atsumu to not even try to fight back; more than this angst, or whatever it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied, Iwaizumi cupped a surprisingly gentle hand around Atsumu’s neck in a kind of affectionate pat and led the way to the ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu would be lying if he said he didn’t pull his punches - just a bit, just taking an extra hit here or there, nothing serious. Either way, it eased the emotional ache when he felt a physical ache take its place instead. Iwa apparently understood, since he didn’t comment on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Iwaizumi waited until they were both sweaty and shaking before bringing an ice pack over for a nastier bruise that was beginning to form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Atsumu grunted out. Iwa ruffled his hair, then left to talk with Daichi, who’d just walked in alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is your partner being nasty still?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu looked up to see Oikawa approach him, before sitting on the edge of the ring with him and tucking his feet up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t trust me,” Atsumu explained, finally tired enough that the emotions felt far away. “I thought he was gonna tell me what Skag said, he said he was gonna, but he fuckin’ ghosted.” It sounded stupid out loud, he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was a grown-ass man getting butthurt about his uncommunicative partner and feeling like he wasn’t good enough. Man, he hated how fragile his ego could be. Because that was the crux of it - if Atsumu were better, he was sure Omi would have told him. If he’d been more capable, more trustworthy, or some other abstract personality trait he’d never have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He sounds like an asshole, Atsu. You know better than to get hung up on reticent pricks like him. Why’s he got you so twisted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stifling the urge to defend his partner, even though Oikawa was right, Atsumu paused. Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> he so twisted? It was unlike him to care so much about some extra, even if the extra was his business partner and almost-friend. Who had a body like a god and eyes you could drown in. And who was surprisingly sweet, and perceptive, and actually very caring in his own quiet way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easy to see Omi’s spiky nature as a facade, now that Atsumu had seen him be achingly gentle with Yuki, and angry on behalf of those dogs, and soft with his own friends at Owl and Orchid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, shit. Was that why? Did Atsumu have a crush on Omi? He looked to Oikawa in fear, who just smirked gently back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sucks falling for assholes, doesn’t it?” This time, Oikawa’s tone was fond. Atsumu followed his gaze to Iwaizumi, who was arm-wrestling Daichi and winning by a very small margin. They had a small crowd of spectators. Daichi was yelling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, this sucked. Was that why his hookup had been so unsatisfying? Sure, the sex was fine, but when it was over - ugh, the guy had fallen asleep before Atsumu could kick him out - Atsumu just wanted him to leave. He’d practically shoved him out the door the next morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d pictured Omi’s large hand around his neck instead of - Brad? -’s but that didn’t mean anything. Smiling at every text he got from Omi also didn’t mean anything, by the way. Nor did the way his stomach fluttered when Omi had brought him that scone - his favorite flavor! - with a guilty expression. Oh gods, oh fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa gave a drawn out </span>
  <em>
    <span>mmhmmmmmmmm</span>
  </em>
  <span> and patted his shoulder sympathetically like the asshole he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter, though,” Atsumu said. Oikawa gave him a questioning expression that looked unfairly good on his beautiful face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no way -” Atsumu shook his head. “He doesn’t trust me </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and we’re barely even friends. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if we never talked again after this fuckin’ job. I’m a total extra in his life. An npc.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa frowned. “Self-pity is not your look, Atsu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu barely had a second to look offended before Oikawa went on. “You’re hot as fuck, and you have a tolerable personality, you’re a good person, you are relatively clean and put-together, even if you could stand to wear sweatpants less often.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I look good in sweatpants, ya said so.” Atsumu chuckled, choosing to allow Oikawa to lift his mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmf, true actually. It’s your ass, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu knew he couldn’t twerk for shit, but that didn’t stop him from standing in front of Oikawa, pushing his ass out, and trying to shake it. Oikawa spanked him once before finally collapsing with laughter. Atsumu sat on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa’s chuckles subsided. He wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s waist. “Seriously, though. I’m not friends with ugly people. Or shitty people. The fact that I like you should be proof enough that anybody would be lucky to have your attention for a second, Atsu-chan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oops, Atsumu might cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was stupid. He was a pretty confident guy - he knew he was a catch - but something about Omi, whom Atsumu had accidentally fallen in like with, keeping secrets like this hurt more than he’d like. Whatever, Omi was a bitch and if he didn’t like Atsumu then that wasn’t really Atsumu’s problem. He could just fuck his way through every night club in the city until he felt better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A buzz in his pocket caught his attention - it was Kuroo again, telling him to come now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Oikawa,” Atsumu said, headbutting his friend lightly. He received a flippant wave for his troubles, and a sincere “Goodnight” when he stood to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air outside was heavy with moisture, and cold. Spring though it was, the nights were cold - especially when it got more humid. It felt like the city was always humid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The address, when he put it into maps after showering quickly and changing into more practical clothes, showed a building on the north side of the city. Atsumu didn’t tend to go there often - it was a business quarter, with countless high rises whose windows glittered day and night. He passed through the newer section though, and into the older part of the city where the buildings looked more run down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he walked, he got nervous. He couldn’t keep from feeling like he was being watched, even though every time he glanced behind him the street was empty. It was creepy here, empty now that it was late, like some kind of industrial ghost town. Eventually the street lamps gave way to darker streets, and Atsumu slowed his footsteps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A buzz in his pocket, again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fire escape, second floor, don’t let anybody hear you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kuroo’s texts were increasingly ominous. Maybe he felt like he was being watched because Kuroo was fucking sneaking around after him. The texts were certainly starting to sound like it, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The building wasn’t as large as Atsumu had been expecting from the word “warehouse.” It looked like the type of building where people would store trucks, but like...not that many trucks. Atsumu felt the hair on his arms raise as he slowly circled the building, looking for the fire escape. There were no guards that he could see; he assumed Kuroo would tell him if there had been people he needed to get around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There - rusted and with the bottom broken off, Atsumu had to jump to reach the bottom rung. Silently thanking his workout routine, he used only his arms to climb up the rungs until he could finally reach with a foot. It was hard to do quietly, and Atsumu released a breath of relief when he made it onto the metal stairs without any loud metal clangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His puffing breaths were the only thing he could hear, and he wondered if the building was warded to be sound proof or if it was just empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first landing of the stairs lined up with the high windows along the top of the first floor. Peering inside, he had to wipe away some grime before he could make anything out. It looked abandoned. An old fire truck sat in one corner, its tires so deflated they looked like they’d melted into the floor. Piles of random equipment littered the floor, like somebody had tried using this place as half-assed storage before abandoning it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until he walked up the next set of stairs that he realized the building wasn’t empty at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no windows this time, just a door that had seen better days. When he checked, though, he found it wasn’t locked. Was that Kuroo’s doing? He opened it slowly, just in case it squeaked. It didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing that hit him was the smell. There were layers, thick and oppressive, but the strongest smell by far was metallic, like copper on his tongue. Beneath that, some kind of lemony chemical smell. Still fainter was the smell of rot - like that time a stray cat had died under their house when he was a kid and by the time they found it there was a writhing mass of maggots where its eyes and belly should have been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu almost gagged, but didn’t. He did stop breathing through his nose, though. The smell was so strong he could almost taste it anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door had opened onto a weird balcony, and Atsumu quickly ducked down in case he was visible from below. Now that he was inside, he could hear dim moaning and low voices. The building must be warded, then. Suspicious, but the whole situation was suspicious too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lowered to his belly and approached the edge of the ledge. What he saw on the other side made his stomach drop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like a scene from a horror movie. On one side of the room were cages, homemade cells with thick metal bars stretching from floor to ceiling. There were people inside, cowering in clumps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moaning was coming from a figure in the middle of the room, strapped by all four limbs to a chair. Two men wearing lab coats and masks orbited them, and Atsumu had to squint to see what was happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tied person was naked from the waist up, their movements twitchy but tired, almost involuntary. Atsumu watched in horror as one man held the person’s elbow straight while the other came close with a large needle attached to a hose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, no, no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Atsumu’s mind chanted as the man slid the needle right into the figure’s arm, through the soft inner skin of their elbow. They groaned again, but it barely reached Atsumu’s ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of them taped the tube to the side of the person’s arm to keep it there, and the other traced it to where it ended on the table. He used it to fill vial after vial of blood, which all went into a padded box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu thought he was gonna be sick. His body was drenched in a cold sweat, and he felt paralyzed watching the scene unfold in front of him. Was he supposed to intervene? Where was Kuroo? Was he even here, was he one of the men in coats?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t even noticed the bodies along one of the walls. Two figures lay tangled, like they’d been dragged and dropped haphazardly. Their bodies were sickly yellow and in different states of decay. The word “Burn” was written on the wall above them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, Atsumu thought the men would take all the blood from the person and leave them in the corner, with the other bodies. That didn’t happen. After a few minutes, they pulled the needle out and wrapped the person’s elbow with something. They stood to bring the person back to one of the cells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When one of the men shifted, Atsumu got a good glimpse of the person for the first time. Their eyes were closed in a grimace, but the part that stood out was the way their fangs were visible even in the low light, and their short hair revealed pointed ears. Hank had said </span>
  <em>
    <span>alternative energy source.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Several things clicked into place at once, and the weight of the realization drove the wind from Atsumu’s lungs. So Nekoma - they were taking down warehouses like this one? Now that he looked closer, he saw more people. There were two near the stairwell holding guns, and a fifth was approaching the dead bodies and stooping to grasp one by the ankle and begin to drag - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu ran. Heart beating so hard he could hear it, he slid back out the door. His hands shook as he crept back down the stairs. As strong as he was, he couldn’t take five people alone. He just had to hope he could get to Omi in time. His phone buzzed again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re taking care of it. Get out of here</span>
  </em>
  <span> the text read, and Atsumu felt a surge of relief so strong he could almost taste it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was Kuroo a part of Nekoma, then? But Hinata - Atsumu’s mind felt like it was paralyzed and going 300kph at the same time. He dropped from the ladder to the ground, wincing at the crackle of gravel from under his boots. Hopefully nobody heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until he was out of sight of the building that he felt himself begin to calm, if just a little. The night felt darker than ever in the alleyway he ducked through. He just wanted to get home. He’d figure out how to tell Omi as soon as he didn’t feel like a gust of wind would blow him over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A man stepped out of the shadows ahead of him. Oh, fuck. He was in no shape to fight. Steeling himself, Atsumu slipped his hand into his jacket, curling his fingers around his gun. But then - “Omi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped closer and sure enough, his partner stood in front of him with his hands loose at his sides and a cold look on his face. Thank gods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Omi’s expression didn’t lighten when Atsumu got closer; it got colder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I trusted you,” Omi said, voice ragged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha -” Quick as a dart, Omi stepped forward and punched Atsumu right in the face. He felt his nose break, pain shattering his face, and his head cracked back into the brick wall behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought I wouldn’t be able to smell it? The blood?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s vision swam from where he’d crumpled into the ground. “No, Omi, you don’t - the fae -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Omi swung a foot back and smashed it into Atsumu’s ribs. The pain was blinding. It was so much worse than anything he’d felt. He was used to fighting other humans, whose strength couldn’t hold a candle to the way Omi’s next swing landed on Atsumu’s ribs with a sharp splintering flash of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a hand closer around his neck. If he could just - had Omi seen him, did he know what was in there? He must, this wasn’t right, something was wrong, but Atsumu couldn’t figure out </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> through the pain blacking his vision and his lungs burning for air. Just before he lost consciousness, he saw someone pull Omi off of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>* * * *</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo grunted with strain against Sakusa, who was trying unsuccessfully to rip his arms from Kuroo’s grasp. When he’d sent Atsumu here, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>specifically </span>
  </em>
  <span>told him to make sure Sakusa didn’t follow him for this exact reason. What he’d shown Atsumu would turn anyone’s stomach, and he knew Sakusa was fae. He hadn’t wanted to coddle him, merely give him time to understand the situation before getting anywhere close to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo hadn’t had the same luxury, when he and Kenma had stumbled into this. He still remembers the vomiting and nightmares that had followed his first glimpse of what those warehouses and ships held. Luckily, he’d had Kenma. He didn’t know who Sakusa had, beyond the partner he’d just beaten bloody on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of Atsumu - Kenma hurried to him, from where he’d been hiding nearby. Kenma was a necromancer, not a healer, but Kuroo knew his boyfriend knew enough about medicine to at least check on Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, his own job was to calm the spitting rage of the man he was restraining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was breathing heavily, not struggling as much as before, but still trying to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen.” Kuroo growled in his ear, “This is a huge misunderstanding and you’re about to feel like a real asshole in a second.” Sakusa stilled. “Atsumu isn’t working for them, or whatever you’re thinking. I sent him here so he could learn the truth, that’s it. Pipe down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa did not pipe down, but he did exhale with a sharp “What?” Then, “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Kuroo, this is Kenma.” He nodded over at Kenma, not that Sakusa could see it from in front of Kuroo. Kenma was fluttering his hands somewhat uselessly over Atsumu’s beaten body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You probably know us as Nekoma,” Kuroo continued. That, at least, got a reaction out of Sakusa. He jolted in Kuroo’s arms. “We’ve been doing what we can, but there’s only three of us. I was hoping to show Atsumu this, then have him explain it to you so you didn’t have to see it. You weren’t supposed to be here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Sakusa sagged against him. Confident he wouldn’t go back to trying to kill Atsumu, Kuroo let him go. “I thought -” Sakusa began, but trailed off quickly. Kuroo could see the guilt starting to set in, the understanding of what had happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa turned to Kuroo with wide eyes. “I thought he was -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but he’s not. But you got him pretty bad, do you know somewhere we can take him? I guess you could go to the hospital, if not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, still looking dazed. “Owl and Orchid,” Sakusa said, reaching out towards Atsumu, whom Kenma was still cradling on the ground. Oh, shit, wasn’t that Bokuto and Akaashi’s shop? He’d never been, but he knew somebody that used to spend a lot of time there. Atsumu was out cold, and his face was already bruising impressively from Omi’s knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo hadn’t seen the whole thing, just heard it - by the time he’d come around the corner to see the situation, Atsumu had already been on the ground. He felt kind of bad; it had been on his direction, after all, that Atsumu had come at all. But he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>told him</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to bring Sakusa, and wouldn’t be held accountable for what happened after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment Sakusa reached Atsumu, fingers outstretched, they both vanished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma looked just as startled as Kuroo was, considering the man whose head had been in his lap was completely gone. Kuroo’s fae hearing couldn’t pick out any sound either, so it must not be an illusion or invisibility of any sort. It appeared Sakusa Kiyoomi could teleport.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma stood, dusting off his pants with his ever-bored expression. Dang, he was cute even when Kuroo should be focusing on the problems at hand. Speaking of problems, though, he pulled out his phone and typed in “Owl and Orchid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was; or he hoped, at least, that the first entry had the right address. Without a word, he draped his arm around Kenma and they toddled off back towards the warehouse. The third member of Nekoma was still back there, setting up the charges. They had some business to take care of, then they’d visit Owl and Orchid to see what’s up.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>* * * *</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu woke up in pain. His face throbbed with every heartbeat, and his ribs hurt with every breath. Someone was talking, but it took a few moments for Atsumu to become aware enough to actually understand any of the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll be fine, just super bruised! You got him good, Kiyoomi.” came a rumbling voice from somewhere near Atsumu’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Bokuto knows what he’s doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I know. Thank you.” That was Omi’s voice, somewhere slightly farther away, sounding more hesitant than Atsumu had ever heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I followed him…” the voice kept speaking, but Atsumu didn’t listen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he remembered. The flash of pain across his face, worse than the surprise of seeing his partner there and </span>
  <em>
    <span>so mad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Trying to explain but -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt his breathing kick up, against his will. Something gurgled deep in his lungs every time he inhaled, and he started to panic. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop, stop. Stop,” he whined, “Please.” He choked. He hurt, he didn’t feel safe, he didn’t know where he was, and there were at least three people just talking over his body and he wanted to get out. He would have gotten up to leave if he’d been anywhere near able, but as it was he still hadn’t opened his eyes, and couldn’t even tell if he was on a bed or a couch or the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, you can visit him later.” Two pairs of footsteps trailed away and Atsumu felt himself relax just a little. His brain felt like it was sloshing around inside his head and as soon as he tried to open his eyes, the light made everything a thousand times worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was gonna - he tipped to the side and vomited, not even knowing where it landed before going unconscious again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next time he woke up was infinitely better. His head was in somebody’s lap, and they were gently running their fingers through his hair. It was quiet, blissfully so. Atsumu carefully opened his eyes, ready for the pain of the light, but it never came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head still throbbed dully, but he felt much better than the last time he tried. Osamu’s face, kind of blurry, came into view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Samu?” he croaked. Osamu looked down at him in surprise. Suna’s face swam into view a moment later, looking characteristically unaffected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heya bro, how ya feelin’?” Osamu whispered, and Atsumu was glad for it. He wasn’t sure how fragile his head was, how much noise would make him pass out again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like shit, aha. What happened?” He shouldn’t have asked. He knew what happened, and why. He mostly just wanted Osamu to fill in the parts where he was unconscious, and he hoped his brother got that from his broad question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did. Twinly intuition for the win. “Sakusa teleported you here, to Bokuto. He healed ya up pretty good, but yer concussion might take a while still. He fixed yer broken nose and ribs and also yer skull and the internal bleeding and your collapsed lung though, so that’s cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cool indeed. Hearing it all out loud was surreal. Would he have died if Omi hadn’t brought him here? He wasn’t sure, but the answer seemed like yes. Though he didn’t know if saving his life counted for much when Omi was also the reason it needed saving. His gut twisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa wanted to be here when you woke up, but we told him to leave,” Suna commented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good. Atsumu was glad. He probably needed some time to sort out his feelings about Omi before he saw him again, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Check this out,” Suna said, and held his phone out for Atsumu to view. The screen light hurt his head, but he got the gist of the picture before he groaned and dropped his head back. A mistake, as it made pain shoot through his head to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The picture was Atsumu himself, clearly asleep. Blood was seeping out both nostrils and he had the most impressive black eyes he’d ever seen. He looked like a raccoon. In a week, it would probably be funny, but now it just made him wince.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes passed in silence, and Atsumu tried to embody the feeling that he was safe and cared for. Then Osamu cleared his throat and Atsumu was instantly on alert.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s one other thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hinata’s… alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Osamu, stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious. He can tell ya the whole story, but he’s here. If ya wanna see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he couldn’t be. Because Atsumu had seen the explosion, there was no way he could have survived, and it had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>a year</span>
  </em>
  <span> without Shouyou, how could he be alive now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, before Atsumu had any time to process further, the door was creaking open. Because Shouyou never </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> eavesdrop and had probably kept his fae ears tuned in the whole time, and why was Atsumu even thinking this, because there was no way -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then there he was, bright orange hair bobbing into the room in awkward movements like he wanted to run but wasn’t sure if he should. And what? </span>
  <em>
    <span>What? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Then Shouyou was sitting on the ground next to Atsumu - oh, he’d been on a couch this whole time - and babbling excitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gods, Atsumu, are you okay? You look even worse than I expected!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Great, just what he wanted to hear. Atsumu winced at the noise. He was stuck between offense that the very first thing Shouyou had done was inadvertently insult him, and shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow, Sho, be quiet.” That part was easier to deal with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry!” he whisper-yelled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Atsumu’s bruised body was being wrapped in a too-tight hug. Shouyou smelled the same as he used to, like sunlight (even though that wasn’t a smell) and familiarity and freshness, like he’d been standing outside before he was here. Could it really be him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stopped trying to find reasons why this couldn’t be happening, and tried to enjoy it instead. He didn’t even have words for the depth of emotion he was feeling, so he didn’t try. He just sank into the hug and ignored the ache in his ribs when he wrapped his arms tighter around the smaller man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seriously though, </span>
  <em>
    <span>What? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, Shouyou.” Shouyou let out a tiny whimper, and Atsumu thought he might cry. Shouyou already was, staining Atsumu’s t-shirt with his tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shifted, and Atsumu abruptly remembered he was still partially in his brother’s lap. Oops. “Suna and I are gonna head out, ya good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pulled out of his super long hug with Shouyou and nodded. “Yeah, thanks. Thanks for bein’ here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course, ‘Tsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder before they departed, and then he was alone with Shouyou. Who wasn’t actually dead, apparently. Whom Atsumu hadn’t seen in so long. Too long. Gods, how he loved this man. Not romantically, not anymore, but enough that his heart felt like it was splitting all over again. In a good way this time, somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you a rock!” Uh, what.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou brandished a pebble that instantly insulted Atsumu’s gross sweat-dried hair. “I didn’t know how much company you’d want? So I brought you this rock to talk to if you get lonely.” The thought was nice, but frankly, the pebble had a potty mouth and was colorfully swearing at Atsumu. He didn’t think the rock would be good company, but would rather listen to its complaints than tell Shouyou he didn’t want it. Call him whipped, but nobody he knew could withstand Shouyou’s pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto said you should stay here for a couple days, until you feel better. The rest of us are staying upstairs,” Shouyou continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu finally took a second to look around him. He was in some kind of office, with a desk and computer on one side, and a bookshelf full of books on the other. A small window set high into one wall let in watery light. Atsumu couldn’t tell if it was morning or evening, but it didn’t really matter anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Akaashi’s office,” Shouyou supplied for him. That made a lot of sense, since he knew Bokuto had been the one to heal him. He must be on the basement level, in the actual store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The rest of us?” Atsumu croaked out, throat still thick with sleep and pain and emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I’m part of Nekoma now! The other two are Kenma and Kuroo. They’re the reason that Sakusa guy didn’t do more damage.” Shouyou’s eyes turned steely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu winced. He’d been trying not to think of Omi, thank you very much. Suddenly the nickname didn’t feel as cute. Maybe he should start referring to him as Sakusa, like everybody else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I take it they didn’t kill ya, then.” Atsumu couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into his words. Shouyou looked appropriately chastised, eyes casting away from Atsumu’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, no. I did die, actually, for a bit.” For a bit?? “But uh, this guy Kenma brought me back? I was on the ship, remember.” Atsumu did remember. It had been his idea, after all, that Shouyou go onto the ship alone while Atsumu played lookout from the shore. He’d regretted it as soon as Shouyou had gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was waiting for Nekoma, like we’d planned. But somebody else on the ship found me. That was before either of us knew what they were really doing. So, uh, I’m sure you can…” Shouyou trailed off, but made a series of complicated gestures with his hands which Atsumu interpreted as “strung me up, sucked my blood out, and left my body in a corner.” He felt sick again, but this time it wasn’t from his concussion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I woke up, and Kenma was there. He’d taken one of the guard’s life forces and put it in me, I guess? I’m not sure. I know his power has limits, but I’m not sure what they are. He doesn’t like to talk about it. But somebody died, and I came back, and I wanted to tell you the whole time but Kuroo said I couldn’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were just skipping over the part where he was captured and killed in a horrifyingly gruesome way? And going straight to Atsumu’s feelings? Typical Shouyou.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess that’s why Kageyama could never bring ya back, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou’s eyes teared up. “Tobio - he tried?” That was right, Atsumu had nearly forgotten about the surly necromancer and his budding romance with Shouyou. Maybe now they’d have a chance to actually be together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course he did.” Then, “Why didn’t ya tell me?” he asked, despite himself, as if that really were the most important thing here, even though he knew it wasn’t. But so many months of heartbreak and he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too dangerous. We didn’t want Mount Doom finding you, not when we needed you to help us eventually. Had to let it happen naturally.” Atsumu wasn’t so sure about that excuse, but he didn’t want to question Shouyou further. Not when this was the first time he’d seen him in so long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mount Doom?” Atsumu laughed. Hinata flushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that’s what Kenma and I’ve been calling them. We didn’t know how else to name them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me more about this Nekoma,” Atsumu asked, getting sleepy again. This had been a fucking rollercoaster and he kinda wanted to take a nap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Kuroo acts tough but is actually super sweet! Well, after he got over how much Kenma liked me off the bat. And Kenma’s the coolest! He’s all </span>
  <em>
    <span>grr</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>weh</span>
  </em>
  <span> but then on the inside…” Atsumu fell asleep again to the sound of Shouyou’s melodic voice and the realization that he wasn’t hallucinating, or dreaming. Shouyou was really here. Alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could figure out his shit with Omi later, if he decided to salvage their relationship at all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Essentially: Atsumu has been having contact with a stranger named Kuroo, who claims to know things about Nekoma and the company Atsumu/Sakusa got the bounty from. Atsumu goes and hangs out with Oikawa a little bit, who is mad on Atsumu's behalf for Sakusa being shifty.<br/>Atsumu goes to a warehouse and sneaks around. He finds fae people in cages, some of whom have died and whose bodies will be burned. He witnesses some lab coat people strap a fae person down and take their blood and put it into little vials. Atsumu freaks out and runs, and Kuroo says they'll get the fae people out, not to worry. Sakusa confronts Atsumu, having reached the (false) conclusion that Atsumu is working *with* the bad guys, not against them. He attacks Atsumu, knocks him out, then Atsumu is in and out of consciousness until the end of the chapter.<br/>Also, Hinata's alive. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Surpise! Kuroo is now the main character.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kuroo feels some feelings about all sorts of things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!<br/>I am weak to Kuroo, and also this sounded fun, so here's a kind of half-chapter about our favorite bokuaka/kuroken dudes.</p><p>Writing this also made me realize (decide) that there will definitely be a bokuakakuroken sequel to this story.<br/>I hope you enjoy this tiny tidbit.</p><p>[ie Atsumu is passed the fuck out, Sakusa is angsting somewhere nearby, Kuroo is j chillin with the love of his life and some new friends]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kuroo was tired by the time he and Kenma traipsed down the concrete stairwell to Owl and Orchid. Hinata was back at the warehouse making sure none had survived the blast, and using his illusion magic to hide the fae survivors until they entered the fae quarter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Privately, Kuroo thought Hinata chose to stay behind alone to prepare himself to see Atsumu. Kuroo couldn’t blame him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door was locked, because of course it was. His ears picked up faint noises from inside, though. He knocked, loudly. It was past midnight. He was so, so tired. As was Kenma - their life was filled with constant anxiety that they’d be found, executed before their work was done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept through the night, but if Sakusa - another fae - felt comfortable coming here, hopefully Kuroo would be safe too. Please, let them be safe just for a night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man that eventually came to the door was quite possibly the most beautiful person Kuroo had ever seen. He jostled Kenma with his elbow, who jostled him back. Seems they were in agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” the man asked through the glass door, without making a move for the lock. His expression revealed nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa said he was taking Atsumu here, after I pulled him off so he couldn’t beat the guy to death.” The man pursed his lips slightly, but undid the lock and stepped aside, opening the door for them. The cheerful jingle of the bell felt out of place on such a dark night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shop smelled like books, and plants, and blood, and some unnameable electric smell. It was oddly comforting. A pink neon sign that read “Owl and Orchid” hung on the wall behind the low checkout counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It passed the vibe check, between the minimalist accents, exposed brick walls, and the soft pink lighting that came from the neon sign since the rest of the lights were off. Very calming, 10/10.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Akaashi Keiji, this is my store. Who are you?” Straight to the chase, Kuro could appreciate it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Kuroo, this is Kenma.” Technically, they didn’t have to be here. They didn’t have to check on Atsumu, or Sakusa. They could have chosen to collaborate electronically. But the idea of a safe haven was too good to pass up. That, and Kuroo was curious; about the situation, about Sakusa and Atsumu, and about the humans Sakusa trusted enough to go to for help. Sue him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Akaashi.” Akaashi halted and turned his attention to Kuroo. Kenma stuck tight to Kuroo’s side. “We aren’t here to cause trouble, really. You’ve got nothing to worry about from us. We just wanted to make sure those two idiots are okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi relaxed at that, taking his word at face value. Kuroo caught Akaashi’s eyes tracing over the pointed tip of Kuroo’s ear, the stud in his lobe, then finally hovering over his lips, which hid his fangs. Akaashi relaxed even further, which was surprising. Most people got their defenses up around fae for better or for worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not worried, but thank you. Kiyoomi explained the important parts.” Angel, Kuroo’s mind chanted, this man was an angel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi led them through a door at the back that opened into a small office. Atsumu’s bloody form was on the couch; a man with spiky two-toned hair hovered over him, with glowing hands pressed to Atsumu’s chest. That must be Bokuto, then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was crumpled against the wall, chin on his knees, arms around his legs, as small as he could possibly get. His eyelids were low, like he was barely awake, and he had two rolls of toilet paper shoved up his nostrils. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked miserable, both physically and emotionally. His gaze didn’t even shift when Kuroo and Kenma walked in, just stayed glazed over as he watched the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything we can do to help?” Kuroo whispered to Akaashi. The atmosphere felt heavy, and almost as tired as Kuroo felt. Akaashi shook his head, then slid down the wall to sit by Sakusa. Kuroo watched as Akaashi tipped Sakusa’s head onto his shoulder and carded his hand through the taller man’s hair in a soothing pattern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abruptly, Kuroo felt like he was intruding. But it was too late now to just turn around and leave, so he and Kenma just hovered awkwardly by the door to the office. Well, Kuroo felt awkward, but Kenma probably didn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, it didn’t last for long. Soon, Bokuto stood from his kneeling position by the couch. “There!” He exclaimed in a loud whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo gulped - the guy was really tall, and built as fuck. Hinata hadn’t mentioned how attractive his friends were when he’d told Kuroo about them before. He would have appreciated the heads up, so he wouldn’t have felt like swallowing his tongue. Like he did right now. Akaashi stood and hurried to the man’s side right when he began to sway. “I’m good, I’m good,” he slurred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo snorted. “Yeah, you sure look fine,” he said lightly. He’d meant it as a joke, but it accidentally came out as a come-on. Oops. The other man’s eyes lit up as he laughed, and Kuroo was glad he hadn’t taken offense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi herded them all towards the door, then paused to look back at Sakusa. “Kiyoomi,” he said softly, “Are you coming?” Sakusa shook his head slowly. Akaashi went back into the room to grab a blanket and drape it over Sakusa’s head, then he closed the door behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo figured that was their cue to leave, as reluctant as he felt. “Ah, okay, well thanks for -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo,” Akaash interrupted. Bokuto was swaying, slightly cross-eyed, attached to one of Akaashi’s arms. “We have a guest room, if you’d like to stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo didn’t know why he offered. He wasn’t obligated by any means, and he barely knew who Kuroo even was. Had Sakusa explained the murder part? Even if it was for a good cause, most people would be hesitant to invite murderers to sleep in their houses. Kuroo didn’t want to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes please,” Kenma said, answering Akaashi while Kuroo was short-circuiting in his own head. “What,” Kenma asked, rolling his eyes at Kuroo’s look of surprise, “I’m tired of squatting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a fair point. Air mattresses could only cut it for so long. “Thank you, Akaashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They followed Bokuto and Akaashi up the stairs and into their apartment. The lights were off, but the whole place had a comfortable atmosphere even in the dark. It still smelled like plants. Akaashi gave them sheets, towels, and some sweats, and bid them goodnight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Falling asleep that night, clean from a shower and curled around Kenma, Kuroo let himself fully relax in a way he hadn’t done in what felt like years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo woke with a start in the middle of the night. Kenma was sprawled over his chest, drooling a little. It was cute as hell. As tired as his body still was, Kuroo’s mind was certifiably awake now. He untangled his limbs from Kenma and slipped the donated sweats on over his boxers and didn’t bother grabbing a shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the bathroom, he took a moment too long staring at his reflection. His cheeks were hollower than he remembered, his eye bags like gray triangle bruises under his eyes. He was strong, but lean, the constant stress of his lifestyle with Kenma eating into his body reserves in a way that made him look thinner than he probably should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran wet hands over his face. Now wasn’t the time to be lamenting his inability to have a healthy, normal life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He padded on bare feet to the living room, which was cast in silver highlights from the moon coming in through the window. He guessed it was 4am, but wasn’t sure. He was careful to make no sound as he hunted for a cup, and the tap was quiet as he filled it with water and took it over to the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were so many plants, now that he took a second to look. A bookshelf with trailing plants sat against one wall, like a vertical green carpet. On the windowsill, a family of spider plants dipped over the edge of the trim. A single orchid, with buds but no blooms, sat in the corner of the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His ears picked up the sound of a door softly closing, then approaching footsteps. He turned to see Akaashi in a big t-shirt that hid (probably) boxers under the hem. His legs were long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think your plants are a little dry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s eye twitched and Kuroo almost laughed. “No, they aren’t. They are perfectly hydrated, thank you very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo looked dubious. “I don’t know, they look kinda thirsty to me.” Kuroo reached his cup out slowly and tipped a little water into the orchid pot. It ran off a leaf, completely useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s stern expression finally shifted, and the slight smile felt like light itself. “Would it make you feel better if I watered them?” Akaashi asked, slyly. Honestly, Kuroo didn’t give half a shit about the plants but he gave more than half of one about Akaashi already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo nodded. Akaashi chuckled softly, and Kuroo was rewarded with the sight of those long legs walking away from him before Akaashi came back with a pitcher clasped in his long fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi kept eye contact the whole time he watered them, just a little each, and it was the most unsuspectingly erotic thing Kuroo had possibly ever seen. Plant watering shouldn’t be hot, it just shouldn’t. Part of it was the way Akaashi slipped those long fingers under heavy leaves to lift them so he could nudge the lip of the pitcher near the roots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of it was the eye contact, though, steady and heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Akaashi set the pitcher back down, and Kuroo had a second to inwardly admonish the semi he’d gotten. “I want to show you something,” Akaashi said. Kuroo came closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi crouched down near the plant-shelf and pulled a pot slightly out. The plant was so dark it was almost black, with heavy shiny leaves. Akaashi rotated the plant while Kuroo crouched beside him. He carefully parted some leaves at the back, and what Kuroo saw stole his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teeny glowing specks floated in the space between the leaves and the soil. They were light pink, and looked not unlike tiny jellyfish. As Kuroo watched, some floated out of the pot to nearby plants while others hovered near the roots of the original plant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are they?” Kuroo asked. He’d never seen anything like them before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. I think they might be a type of sprite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like soot sprites?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they do anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I can tell so far. I only noticed them recently. They prefer this plant, I’m not sure why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo held out a finger beneath one that was floating towards the floor. It danced on his finger for a moment before - “Ow, fuck.” Kuroo flicked the now-bright red sprite away, where it floated back onto another plant. A small bead of blood appeared on the tip of his finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi frowned. He held out his own finger to catch one, but nothing happened. Kuroo shrugged. It hadn’t hurt that much, it was mostly surprising. Whatever the little dude wanted to do with his blood, Kuroo figured it couldn’t be that bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch,” Akaashi said. He made delicate pulling motions with his fingers and before their eyes, a tendril from a nearby plant unfurled and crept, stretched up to touch the very tip of Kuroo’s nose. Kuroo smiled wide and booped the tip of the leaf with his finger in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s pretty cool, Akaashi. That explains all the plants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi nodded. “I mostly let them grow on their own, unless I’m fulfilling an order.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Kuroo was getting tired again, between Akaashi’s late night softness and the dreamy feel of the apartment. The magic, the sprites, the knowledge that he could sleep through the night and not be woken up by Mount Doom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi seemed to realize the moment Kuroo got tired again, since he offered him a hand up and led the way back to the bedrooms. “Goodnight, Kuroo,” he whispered, just before slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma rolled over when Kuroo got back into bed, making Kuroo the little spoon. “Good?” Kenma asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kuroo chuckled despite himself. “That Akaashi’s really something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma hummed. “You like him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hard not to, but we just met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, I like him too so far. Think they’ll let us stay for a bit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo didn’t know the answer, but he sure hoped it was yes. He wanted to get to know them both, not only as a safe haven but because Hinata had said so many good things about them and gods knew Kuroo and Kenma could use some kindness in their lives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey hey hey!” Oh, no. Gods no, please. Let him sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t gonna happen, not with the amount of morning energy Bokuto was practically pumping out of his pores into what had been their nice quiet morning sleep cuddles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was about to get up and tell Kenma he could sleep in, since his boyfriend was generally bad at getting up early, but Kenma surprised him by shooting upright and scooting off the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodmorning, Bokuto,” he heard Kenma say. Kuroo reluctantly got up - it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Bokuto or anything, he’d just been enjoying sleeping in an actual bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi made pancakes!” Bokuto exclaimed as Kenma put on his borrowed clothes and followed him out the door. Kuroo checked his phone, but there were no texts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: </b>
  <span>Yo, hinata, you should surprise them at breakfast. They made pancakes</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not a minute later, Hinata replied. He should have known the little man was obsessively watching his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Orange: </b>
  <span>Ahhhh u think??? They r gonna be so mad D: D:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: </b>
  <span>Yah, right now. Bye</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He left his phone on his pillow so Hinata couldn’t contact him and make Kuroo convince him. The text would have to be enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pancakes were good, but the sound of chatting over breakfast in this tiny sunlit haven was better. Bokuto’s enthusiasm was contagious, even for Kenma, who didn’t even bother to hide his smiles in his hair. Not even four minutes into breakfast and Bokuto had challenged Kenma to a pancake-eating contest that his boyfriend bravely undertook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised impressed eyebrows at Kuroo. “It’s somewhat rare that Bokuto can actually convince people to compete with him in such arbitrary contests.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo laughed, and was rewarded with a shy look from Akaashi, as if now that it was daylight he wasn’t sure how to interact with him. “Kenma will fight anyone on anything, despite being five foot one and perpetually exhausted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma took a break from his conversation with Bokuto to shoot a foot into Kuroo’s shin under the table. “I’m almost five seven, you ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow, you didn’t have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kick me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you gremlin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you shouldn’t have been rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll show you rude,” Kuroo replied and swiped one of Kenma’s blueberries to a cry of dismay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt good to joke around as if they could forget, even for one morning, their goal and the people suffering everywhere. It sobered Kuroo’s thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s Atsumu?” he asked Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy’s face lit up. “He’s good! He’s still, uh, asleep, but he’s done bleeding,” Bokuto gestured to his vague chest area and also his face, “but he has a hefty concussion. I did about as much as I could without hurting myself, but he’ll be fine the rest of the way on his own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you not supposed to sleep with a concussion?” Kuroo was no doctor, but he was pretty sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sometimes that’s true, but he’s good. I promise! Kiyoomi’s still down there anyway, just in case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, okay then. That was good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock sounded. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kurooooooo help help I’m scared,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>came Hinata’s quiet voice - too quiet for humans to hear - from the other side of the door. He didn’t know how he was supposed to help, but the least he could do was somewhat prepare the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto was already halfway to the door when Kuroo stood up and cleared his throat. Bokuto paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just...Don’t be mad.” He sat back down. Oh, gods, useless, he was useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other two looked confused until the moment Bokuto opened the door to reveal Hinata, with his head bowed and his hands behind his back. Bokuto froze, then ducked down to get a better glimpse of Hinata’s face, then froze again. His eyebrows knit together and he cocked his head slightly, but other than that he was still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The third member of Nekoma,” Kuroo explained quietly to Akaashi, who had turned to him with a careful look. “He was sure you’d be mad, so go easy on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The warning didn’t seem to be necessary, since Bokuto crouched down to grab Hinata and throw him into the air with a loud whoop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahahah I knew you weren’t dead! Atsumu said you were, and Kageyama, but I thought there was no use in giving up hope until we saw your body!” Bokuto caught Hinata on the downswing, who clung onto the man like a koala. They were both crying now, loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was very heartwarming, all in all. Akaashi’s eyes were impossibly soft as he got up and went to join them. He suffered the exuberant hug with a smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mi-missed you s-so muuuuuuuch,” Hinata cried, back to clinging to Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re alive, Hinata,” Akaashi said, which sounded a little dry to Kuroo but seemed to do the trick for Hinata, who just cried harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Hinata sniffed and hopped back to the floor. He dragged a sleeve across his nose, making Kenma softly laugh beside Kuroo. “Are there any extra pancakes??” Hinata asked, ever-hungry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you had nothing to worry about, huh shrimp?” Kuroo asked. Hinata just nodded enthusiastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were, indeed, extra pancakes, though it meant Kenma and Bokuto weren’t able to finish the contest that undoubtedly would have made Kenma sick, at least. There were only four chairs, but Kenma slid halfway over on his to give Hinata the other half. Kuroo made a joke about cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Kuroo had thought a lazy happy morning was nice, the enjoyment now was indescribable. It was obvious on everyone’s faces how happy they all were, and Kuroo knew Hinata would probably sit Akaashi and Bokuto down for a longer discussion, but for now Hinata was hand-feeding Kenma blueberries and Bokuto was happily nuzzling Akaashi and not tearing his eyes from Hinata for longer than four seconds at a time. It was good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually Sakusa came upstairs, after Atsumu’s brother showed up, and the mood took a downward turn. It was obvious he’d spent all night feeling guilty about everything, since his eyes were still dazed and his eyebags had eyebags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa tried to thank them and run. “Osamu wanted me to leave,” he explained in a ragged voice. Akaashi didn’t let him. Instead, he wrapped him in a hug and walked him into the back, near the bedrooms. Nobody followed, and the next time Akaashi came back, he was alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder what their relationship was with Sakusa, but realized that if he was lucky enough to be able to stay awhile it would probably become clear soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the table again, Akaashi asked for an explanation of the night before, which Kuroo gave - the overview, anyway. They cleaned up breakfast while they talked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Atsumu know you’re here yet?” Akaashi asked Hinata later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata’s obvious sudden discomfort indicated that no, he did not. To be fair, the guy had been passed out since yesterday. “He’ll be happy to see you,” Kenma supplied from where he was sitting on the floor, slouched against the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata looked dubious, suddenly fascinated by his cuticles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma’s right,” Akaashi agreed. “He missed you very much. Even if he’s mad, it won’t last. You know how he is.” Bokuto nodded encouragingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, bro, do you have any idea how excited he’ll be?” Bokuto added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I hope so! But I’d better wait, I mean - his brother’s down there and I probably should wait -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo didn’t have the patience for this. He and Kenma had been alone for years before Hinata joined them; he knew what it was like to have no external support, and he wasn’t about to watch Hinata get in the way of his own healing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he picked him up like a sack of potatoes and ambled to the door. To his credit, Hinata didn’t struggle much, and would probably thank him later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can somebody get the door?” He asked, turning behind him for a moment. Bokuto looked delighted, and even Kenma and Akaashi had little smiles of their own. Bokuto practically bounced to open the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not letting you back in until you talk to him,” Kuroo said, when he finally set Hinata down in the shop downstairs. From what he could hear, Atsumu was still asleep. He knocked on the door and bolted, figuring Hinata could figure the rest out with Atsumu’s family. He cackled on the way back up, loud enough that he knew Hinata could hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back in the apartment, Kenma and Bokuto were playing Xbox while Akaashi read on the couch next to them. “Is the store closed on weekends?” Kuroo asked, wondering why they were just hanging out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” Akaashi responded, not looking up from his page. Uh, cool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuro, they have smash,” Kenma said. It probably sounded monotonous to the other two, but Kuroo could hear the excitement in his words. He’d only had his handheld for the past two years or so, and only when they could charge it. Kenma had missed games so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can play winner, bro!” Bokuto said, grin stretching across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bro. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It had been so long since anybody had called Kuroo bro! “Brooo thank you,” he replied. Felt good, like he was back in college eating pizza with his dorm mates. Dang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent hours like that. Occasionally, they cajoled Akaashi into playing a round, but mostly it was the three of them. Kuroo’s shoulders weren’t even tying themselves in knots, it was amazing. Hinata came back and took a couple turns, cuddled up next to Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple hours into it, Kuroo gave up and let the other three duke it out over and over again, before they switched to Bokuto’s current playthrough of Sekiro. Kenma was the best at it, unsurprisingly. Instead, Kuroo sat behind Kenma (who was on the floor) on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was reclined sideways next to him, but Kuroo sat close enough that they had at least one point of contact. Accidentally. Slowly, like the man was doing it unconsciously, Akaashi’s feet wormed their way under Kuroo’s thigh. They were cold, but Kuroo didn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji,” Sakusa said from the doorway. Akaashi immediately stood, setting his book down on the arm of the couch and pushing Sakusa into the kitchen where he started the electric kettle and pulled some ingredients out of the fridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo didn’t necessarily try to eavesdrop, but he didn’t block it out either. It wasn’t his fault his hearing was incredible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not very hungry, so -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh. A rather miserable one, at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he’ll want to see me?” he heard Sakusa ask. Kuroo found himself wondering, as well. If his partner-turned-friend beat the snot out of him after a super unfortunate but also horrifying misunderstanding, would he want to see them? Probably not. Well, it depended on the partner. He had no idea what their relationship was like, but by the sheer sadness Sakusa was emitting, he figured they were sort of close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Kuroo’s only knowledge of Atsumu had come from Hinata, but he sounded like a good guy. Maybe he’d be pissed, but ultimately forgiving. Kuroo wondered if the harder pill to swallow would be that Sakusa had so easily believed he could be a part of something so terrible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, whatever, it wasn’t really his business. Back to listening to their conversation, which had shifted to what was next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Koutarou said Atsumu will be perfectly fine in a week. He can probably go home tomorrow, if he feels ready.” That was Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What will you and Koutarou do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence, which made Kuroo itch to turn his head and see whatever Sakusa was trying to communicate nonverbally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Akaashi spoke again, “I was going to ask them to stay a while, if they want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo couldn’t help whipping his head around at that one, and found Akaashi looking right at him with a serene look. Damn, that man was smooth. Akaashi smiled, and Kuroo’s heart tripped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment was broken when Akaashi looked away, but the heat Kuroo felt stayed for a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi force-fed Sakusa rice and miso soup, and asked if he wanted company when he went downstairs. Sakusa shook his head. He was looking better, but there was still subtle bruising underneath his eyes - hah, he and Atsumu almost matched - and he looked worn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For everyone’s sake, Kuroo hoped the following conversation went well. They’d need Atsumu’s help in the fight ahead, as well as Sakusa’s. Sure, a happy ending would be nice for their friendship, but the important thing was that they could work together. Meanwhile, Kuroo would enjoy living with his two new roommates and everything that came with it. Even if it felt too easy, after spending so long looking over his shoulder.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>comments and kudos give me LIFE so if you feel inclined to leave either, please do :) I'd love to talk with any of you about this story, or just...anything, ya know, whatever.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Sakusa wonders if rocks are better at this than he is :(</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa has lots of feelings. He tries to do something, but it doesn't work, so he does some other stuff instead. A butterfly stretches her wings. Sakusa gets a nasty surprise.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>some more angst for all you lovelies :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sakusa was having a bad time. If he could undo that night, he would. In a heartbeat. Because then he wouldn’t be here, outside this office door, scared to go in and check on Atsumu. His fast heartbeat made him feel lightheaded. He vaguely wondered if this was a panic attack, but shoved the thought aside. Panic or not, his partner deserved an explanation. As measly as it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was following Atsumu from a good distance, knowing the other man was on alert. Sakusa watched the way he walked, confident like he knew where he was going. The thought soured Sakusa’s stomach further.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The irony wasn’t lost on him, of finally telling Atsumu he was fae and having it blow up in his face like this. This was the reason he kept his secret so close. Because he never knew who’d stab him in the back some day.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, he reminded himself, he was supposed to be giving Atsumu the benefit of the doubt. The tiny hope that this was all a misunderstanding was the only thing that kept Sakusa from finding a bullet to put in his partner’s head, but that hope dwindled the farther north they went.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Skag’s voice drifted back to him, about the captured fae being held in abandoned buildings. Buildings like the one Atsumu was entering now; he even knew how to get in, scaling the ladder like it was second nature. Sakusa ducked out of sight, knowing he might not have time to check out the building before Atsumu came back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was weirdly silent, though, now that Sakusa tried to pay attention to what was in the building. It was probably warded - not a good sign. It also meant that Sakusa had no idea what Atsumu was doing in there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Soon enough, he heard Atsumu walking back his way. Even before he saw the man, the smell hit him, sick and heavy. There was no denying the scent of fae blood - Sakusa knew it in his bones. Layered on top of rot, and death. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The split second before Sakusa stepped into view, his mind flitted to Hinata. Hinata who was fae, who died on Atsumu’s watch. Oh, gods. It made sense, he realized with dawning horror; maybe Hinata had gotten too close to the truth, maybe it was a setup from the beginning.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He wasn’t thinking at all by the time he reached Atsumu. The smell was worse up close, the blood heavy on his tongue. He couldn’t even remember what he said, just the satisfying crunch of Atsumu’s nose under his knuckles and the wet smack of the back of his skull hitting brick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe he’d feel bad about it later, but he doubted it. The rage filled his vision, clogged his pores, and all he knew was anger and grief and betrayal. Betrayal from the man he’d finally decided to trust, the man he’d accidentally grown fond of. It was happening again, Sakusa was slipping, and he didn’t know when he’d wake up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then arms - arms pulling him back, and he wanted to cry, didn’t understand what was happening - until he did.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was like whiplash, going from murderous rage to anguish so fast at a few words as the haze lifted from his mind. The missing puzzle pieces clicked into place for him, and his stomach hollowed out at the realization. Atsumu wasn’t the dangerous one here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa </span>
  <em>
    <span>was. And it felt like he’d just destroyed everything with his own two hands.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa still felt hollow standing there, a full day later. He hadn’t slept the night before, but that was only partially responsible for the dark shadows he knew sat under his eyes. He hadn’t thought twice before teleporting Atsumu and himself, but the toll had been great. His nose had only recently stopped bleeding, and his head still pounded behind his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had felt like it was ripping his skin off, but the pain felt like atonement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut and opened the door quietly to peer inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was asleep. Thank gods, he could put this off a little while longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa curled up on the floor again, knees tucked tight under his chin with his hands resting on top. He’d spent the whole first night here, even though Akaashi had asked him not to, and counted the hours by how often he had to replace the tissues stuffed in his nose to stop the bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto hadn’t even tried to heal him, for which Sakusa was grateful. Not that Bokuto would have had the energy for it, after piecing Atsumu back together. The cracked skull, broken ribs, broken nose, internal bleeding, and punctured lung had been a lot to reverse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa stared at his split knuckles. He couldn’t remember when they’d split, if it had been against Atsumu’s body or maybe when one of his punches had missed and hit a wall. Or the ground. There was no dirt in the cuts, which gaped slightly with every flex of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stop,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu had said, last time he’d woken up with Sakusa in the room. Like some sixth sense, Atsumu had calmed once Sakusa left. As though even in his subconscious, his body could sense a predator nearby. A threat. Someone who’d already hurt him, and might again. Sakusa choked back a sob, but not fast enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shifted at the sound. Just a twitch of his hand, a scrunch of his eyebrows. He looked really bad, worse than before. The bruises around his eyes were almost black, with purple undertones that faded to greenish around the edges of his bruises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa imagined his ribs looked just as bad, and had a moment of gratefulness towards his past self for not immediately going for the kill. He’d wanted it to hurt, more than anything. Which meant Atsumu’s neck and vital areas were largely unharmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d never - he’d never hurt someone like that. An innocent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu hadn’t shifted again, but Sakusa peered closely. His breathing had sped up, and his eyelashes were quivering ever so slightly. He was pretending to be asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart lurched and his throat ached abruptly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa couldn’t control how Atsumu felt, or what he did, but he wanted to explain himself, as painful as the whole story would be for him to tell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh -” he began, but,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re ya doin’ here, Sakusa?” Atsumu finally dropped the nickname, and it brought Sakusa up short. Was that the first time Atsumu had said it? Sakusa didn’t know when the name had stopped bothering him, but now there was nothing he wanted to hear more - as if the nickname signified some kind of familiarity between them that Sakusa desperately needed to hold onto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to explain myself. You deserve to know why I did it,” Sakusa answers, past the lump in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu finally turns to him, instead of looking at the ceiling. His lip is split, his eyes are glazed, and there’s no affection in his gaze. Sakusa hadn’t known how much was there until it was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it. Ya thought I was in on it,” Atsumu’s voice was raspy, “And instead of askin’ me, ya beat the shit outta me. I tried to tell ya, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ya didn’t listen.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyes were starting to burn, the ache in his throat becoming sharp like a sting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to excuse something that couldn’t be excused. He knew he was wrong, but he hadn’t been able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> then, past the betrayal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me somethin, Sakusa.” His family name sounded harsher every time Atsumu said it. Maybe that was the point. “Would ya have stopped? If Kuroo didn’t pull ya off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s silence was answer enough, but the truth was, Sakusa didn’t know. Letting Atsumu reach his own conclusions felt better than admitting that, somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa could see it slipping away, and he knew he had no control over this situation. No control over Atsumu. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would salvage it, make it feel less like he’d thrown his own heart onto the floor and stepped on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Atsumu rasped again, “What’re ya doin’ here. Go home, I don’t want ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa went.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words repeated themselves over and over. Sakusa didn’t know how to stop it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want ya. I don’t want you. Go home. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The only thing that finally made the voice in the back of his head shut up was when he went on a twenty-mile run the next day that made his mouth feel like it was going to bleed by the time he was done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spent the time alone. He ignored Akaashi and Bokuto’s texts, and dodged them when they came to his apartment. At least his teleportation ability was useful for avoiding people. He knew he’d have to stop eventually, sit still long enough for Akaashi to talk sense into him, but he’d let himself have this for a few days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t want him, and Sakusa was only just realizing how much the reverse wasn’t true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing was, Sakusa had barriers. For good reason, but they were there all the same. Somehow, Akaashi and Bokuto had slipped through. But as a rule, Sakusa didn’t tend to let people in. It was too painful when they inevitably left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Atsumu was like a worm, a sneaky heartworm, wiggling his way under Sakusa’s defenses. It had been annoying at first, the incessant joking and the nicknames and the inability to take anything seriously. Somehow, and Sakusa didn’t know when, it had shifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because now, thoughts of Atsumu plagued him relentlessly. He’d looked forward to the stupid texts, and the demands that they get food before or after jobs, and the borderline flirting that Sakusa had never known what to do with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, Sakusa had the fae excuse. Even if he’d liked his partner, he couldn’t be with him without telling. (Privately, Sakusa had let himself entertain the ways he might be able to be with Atsumu without revealing his identity. The mask would stay on, or maybe they just wouldn’t kiss. He could tie Atsumu up, pretend it was about control and not his secret. He could blindfold Atsumu maybe, so he wouldn’t see Sakusa’s sharp teeth when he bared them). That obviously wasn’t a problem anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What reason had Sakusa ever given Atsumu to like him? He’d been prickly, standoffish, uncommunicative, untrusting, and a hundred adjectives Sakusa would like to ignore. So while he was busy accidentally falling for his partner, Atsumu had been putting up with his surly personality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People like him didn’t end up with people like Atsumu - that much was clear. Atsumu needed somebody bright, somebody cheerful, who would laugh at his jokes and build him up instead of tearing him down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somebody like Hinata.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was something else entirely. Would they get back together, now? He knew they’d been broken up before Hinata’s...disappearance, but learning his ex was still alive might be the sort of thing that drove people back together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa, if he’d ever had a chance, had blown it. Irrevocably and irreversibly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So here he was, depression-staring at the wall while his water boiled. It had been hard to eat, as melodramatic as that made him feel, but he’d been drinking a lot of tea. He couldn’t bring himself to drink coffee, because it just made him think of Atsumu. As if anything didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, he hated this. He was every heartbreak stereotype he’d always hated, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing it was his own fault made it even worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An idea slightly brightened his mood. He hadn’t been to see Yuki for a while, the last couple days having been too filled with the job and his subsequent moping. That, at least, should help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae shelter was in the heart of the fae quarter. The bustling streets felt familiar as Sakusa walked through them with his head down. It was a nice day, which made him feel petty for wishing the weather matched his despondent mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he was standing before the great wooden doors. There were two parts to the shelter, which almost took up an entire city block. Half was for fae of any age, where they provided a safe place to sleep, meals, and education opportunities like scholarships or school supplies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other half, the half he was hesitating in front of, was essentially an orphanage. Their goal was never to push the kids out into adoptive families, though. They worked hard to make it clear the kids were welcome until they reached eighteen and were legal adults. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some still got adopted, mostly by other fae, but the message was always clear: they were welcome here. They usually had fae kids living there, but they’d made an exception when Sakusa had shown up with Yuki in his arms. Not that they’d turn away a child in need regardless of their background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa caught himself smiling fondly, before shaking it off and stepping inside. The tall wooden door was as heavy as he remembered, even for his fae strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodmorning, Kiyoomi,” he heard from his left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there she was, the woman who’d raised him since he was twelve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Natsume-san,” he breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was here every time he visited, but something about coming through those doors and being greeted by her made him nostalgic every time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here to see Yuki?” she asked with a bright smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, and she led the way. “You have good timing, Kiyoomi. She has something to show you, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t have much time to wonder before they were passing through another set of double doors into a courtyard garden of sorts surrounded on all sides by the building but open to the sky, though it looked more like a jungle currently between all the overgrown plants and the raspberry bush that was taking over one corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had been Sakusa’s favorite place too, when he lived here, so it made him smile to see Yuki sitting under one of the bigger trees and playing with dirt. Dirt? He squinted. Looked like dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bolted upright as soon as she saw Sakusa, and her face stretched in a huge grin. After such a tumultuous week, it was nice to have such a positive effect on someone. She jumped up and ran to him, tackling him with a hug that drove the air from his chest with an </span>
  <em>
    <span>oof </span>
  </em>
  <span>simply because she ran into him so hard. Her head basically reached the bottom of his ribs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiyoooooooooooomi ya were gone so long!” Her excitement was already contagious. Long gone was the girl who’d cowered while her father was taken away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Yuki. Sorry, I had some work things to deal with.” It wasn’t untrue, but Sakusa wasn’t about to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry, little friend, I was moping</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No worries no worries,” she chanted. She pulled back and grabbed one of Sakusa’s hands in both of her own, then tugged him over to the dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I show him, Natsume-san?” She asked, very politely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Yuki. Don’t get too dirty though, those pants are supposed to last you until laundry day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki scoffed, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> quietly so only Sakusa could hear, and rolled her eyes out of Natsume’s sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No attitude!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki gulped, eyes wide, caught. “Sorry, Natsume-saaaan,” she called back over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa turned to see Natsume leaving, a good-natured chuckle following her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you want to show me, Yuki?” Sakusa asked, once they’d reached the place under the tree where she’d been fiddling with the dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes gleamed. “Okay, but ya can’t scream. Ready? No screaming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa tried to keep his face neutral so he didn’t offend her, but a nine-and-a-half-year-old telling him not to be afraid was one part ridiculous and two parts adorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should have taken her more seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between one moment and the next, Yuki disappeared. In her place was a giant ant, the size of one of Sakusa’s legs. Its mandibles clicked menacingly and it crept towards him. “Oh, fuck -” he had time to yelp, before scrambling back in an awkward crab walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next moment, Yuki was back, grinning broadly. “That was almost a scream,” she accused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa disagreed. “It was a shout.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ehhhh, almost a scream. I did warn ya,” she giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was fair, she had. But “You tried to scare me, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “Yeah, I know. Did I getcha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Yuki, you did.” She beamed. “So what, you can turn into a giant ant?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, ooh, it’s cooler than that! I can turn into whatever bug I want!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa thought most little kids would be significantly less thrilled about this particular ability, but was determined to be supportive. Even if bugs made his skin crawl with discomfort, usually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And,” she continued, voice lowering to a whisper, “I can hear what they’re saying!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bugs can talk?” That was news to Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm, sorta!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do bugs talk about?” Sakusa couldn’t imagine they had very interesting discourse. He eyed the ground, harboring thousands of tiny bugs, with distaste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tilted her head. “Food mostly. Like people, except with a million trillion voices.” Her voice got deeper at the end, her eyes wide, like she was trying to be ominous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It worked. Saksua looked nervously at the ground. Somehow the idea of the bugs speaking in one echoing voice was really freaking him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, neat,” was all Sakusa could manage to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm, sometimes I like to put my head on the ground and listen to worms.” Oh, gods, get Sakusa out of here, his tiny friend was a nut. “My favorite part though,” she continued, and Sakusa was dreading whatever new development she’d have, “Is this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She disappeared again, leaving a teeny blue butterfly in her place. It fluttered lazily toward him, landed on his nose, then spun up gently towards the tree and into the foliage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Yuki was back, kicking her heels under the branch she was on. Okay, that part was admittedly neat. She really lucked out in the magic department, it seemed. She deserved it, after the life she’d led before Sakusa found her. Many people didn’t get magical abilities at all, and some that did got minor magical abilities like vaguely prophetic dreams or super strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi, catch!” Oh, no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely had time to jump up and get under the tree before she swan-dove off the branch. His heart was in his throat the whole time she was in the air, and he shuddered in relief when she was safe on the ground again. What a handful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuki, please be more careful than that. What if I’d dropped you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew ya’d catch me, Kiyoomi, don’t worry don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been easy to catch, but that wasn’t the point. This girl was gonna kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Kiyoomi, didja bring a snack?” she asked some time later, when they were weeding one of the vegetable plots to be useful while they talked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He eyed her suspiciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ants want some,” she elaborated. “Ya should share it with me and with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyebrows crept towards his hairline. “They could smell it?” he asked, pulling a bag of his favorite mustard chips out of his pocket. She just nodded, and made grabby hands. He handed it over; it had been for her in the first place. He always brought them, after he learned they were her favorite, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say, Kiyoomi, what’s got ya down?” She asked around a too-big mouthful of chips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” He’d been trying to be normal, cheery, without thinking of his own life for a few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re kinda…” she sniffed, “Sad looking.” He glared at her half-heartedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you must know,” he started, ignoring her fist-pump of triumph at being right, “I made some mistakes and now Atsumu doesn’t want me around.” He thought that was the most honest yet vague way he could say it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s stupid,” Yuki said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa narrowed his eyes and focused on pulling a deep dandelion out. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that, Jim?” Yuki scooped a bright caterpillar off of a leaf and held it near her ear. “Mmhmm.” She turned back to Sakusa and said, “Yeah, Jim says it’s stupid too. That’s two versus one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s more complicated than that, Yuki.” Sakusa swallowed. “I messed up. I really hurt him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did ya try saying sorry? Natsume-san says ya always gotta say sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I did. It didn’t work. It actually might have made it worse, now that you remind me. Thanks for that, Yuki,” he said faux-sharply. She was unfazed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then go try again! If ya really feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad, he’ll see that ya mean it and then he’ll be your friend again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t mention that he wasn’t sure it was friendship that he wanted from Atsumu anymore. Beyond that, he knew a simple apology wasn’t going to fix what happened. It couldn’t fix the simple fact that Sakusa, however emotional he’d been, had believed Atsumu was capable of supporting something so vile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went back to weeding the bed, even though it was early enough in spring that the shoots were still small, and Sakusa started seeing the clarity in Yuki’s argument. One half-formed apology so soon after the incident was destined to go wrong. The least he could do was make a better effort to show Atsumu how much he regretted his actions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re pretty smart, you know,” he said, instead of </span>
  <em>
    <span>thanks for having a clearer head than me, a literal adult.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smirk was smug, but she didn’t taunt him. “I’m teaching all my bug friends about friendship too, don’t worry don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally left the shelter, some time before dinner, he felt lighter than he had in a long time. It had come at the price of Yuki demanding he take her to hang out with Atsumu - she hadn’t seen him since the first time they met - but that was a small thing to promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He teleported to Owl and Orchid instead of walking, after slipping a mask on. It was probably a mistake, since his head throbbed painfully when he opened his eyes again, but at least his nose didn’t bleed this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he stepped into Owl and Orchid, it hadn’t started getting dark yet. It was a warm day for spring, but the nights were still cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were only two customers; an old lady was whispering to some of Akaashi’s plants, and on the other side of the shop, an androgynous person of ambiguous age was skimming a book they’d pulled off the shelf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi.” Turning, Sakusa saw Akaashi by the counter. There was a flash of irritation on his face, before he smoothed it out. “I see you’re doing just fine,” Akaashi said, “After nearly a week of not texting me back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa winced. Normally, Akaashi would have come to greet him more closely, but today he was standing a safe distance away. Sakusa made up the difference instead, finally bridging the distance by resting his forehead on Akaashi’s hair. He smelled nice, like plants and tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Keiji. I just needed a bit of space.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To mope, I know. We could have helped you, though. We wanted to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded against Akaashi’s head. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi huffed, “So is your pity party over? Koutarou has been feeling bad about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa laughed despite himself. “Yeah, it is. Yuki told me I was being stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I could have done that.” Finally, Akaashi twisted to wrap a loose arm around Sakusa’s waist. That was better, he thought, as he let out a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later, “Is Atsumu still here?” Sakusa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he left a few days ago. I don’t think he liked staying on the office couch. Osamu picked him up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Does he hate me?” Sakusa couldn’t help but ask. He’d been wondering, after all, what Atsumu would have said about him after Sakusa left. It sounded immature the second it left his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s arm tightened around him. “I don’t know, Kiyoomi. He didn’t say anything. Though I think if he really hated you, he would have made it clear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded slowly. That did sound like Atsumu - shouting his rage for all to hear. But Sakusa couldn’t shake the image of Atsumu, pale and bruised, lying on that couch and speaking to Sakusa in a voice that held no emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi hummed quietly. “Come upstairs? There are some things we all need to discuss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s plan had been to find Atsumu, but since he wasn’t here, he figured Atsumu could wait until tomorrow. Putting off his problems always gave Sakusa a kind of thrill - whether it was a good feeling or a bad one, he still couldn’t tell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Who is ‘we all’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo and Kenma have been staying with us. You’ve met, though you were fairly out of it both times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, right. He had Kuroo to thank for making sure Atsumu didn’t end up needing surgery, or dead. He found it odd that Akaashi and Bokuto were still housing the other two, considering they were essentially strangers, but he didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait, “What about Hinata?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Staying with Kageyama, or so he said.” Sakusa didn’t know who that was, but he also didn’t care - what mattered was that Hinata wasn’t living with Atsumu. Not that it was his business or that he had any right to care, he tried to remind himself. It almost worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi led him upstairs with a promise to the customers that he’d be right back down. The mouth-watering smell of food cooking hit Sakusa even before Akaashi opened the door. Inside, a man with half-dyed hair - must be Kenma, by elimination - was sitting on the counter playing a handheld game while Bokuto and Kuroo cooked. Bokuto was crying profusely (a cutting board with chopped onions explained why) and Kuroo was singing loudly along to the music they had playing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bo, nooooo, I told you to put the bowl of water,” Kuroo crowed, laughing at Bokuto’s streaming eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma snickered from the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? What?! What bowl?” Bokuto asked, trying to wipe his eyes with his sleeve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a thing, you put the water and then your eyes don’t hurt,” Kenma muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was nobody gonna tell me -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did, Bo, that’s what I’m saying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he really did,” Kenma said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before they made it all the way into the kitchen, Kuroo turned to look at Sakusa. “Hey buddy, was wondering when you were coming back around. You made Bo sad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a lot to take in. He was starting to see why Akaashi was hiding in the shop all alone, if the energy level was like this all the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Sakusa could even reply, Bokuto shuffled over to give him a hug. “Noo, not sad, I just felt like I should have done more. I mean, your nose was all bleedy and I just went to sleep instead of helping!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi spoke up this time. “Koutarou, you offered, and I said no. Remember? Healing his head would have wiped you out. And he chose to sit on the ground beside Atsumu all night instead of coming to bed with us. I’ve told you this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but I still feel bad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa pulled his mask off and set it aside. “It’s not your fault, Koutarou. But thank you for wanting to help.” He gave Bokuto a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well as long as you’re not mad!” Bokuto scrubbed his sleeve across his onion eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not mad. Are you feeling better now? I know healing Atsumu probably took a lot. I’m sorry for making you do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto gave him an affronted look. “You didn’t make me do shit, Kiyoomi! We do probably need to have a talk about what level of force is reasonable when you’re mad at a friend, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa winced. The words were said lightly, but he was carrying far too much guilt for it to be funny. Akaashi sent Bokuto a stern look, then went back downstairs and Sakusa was left with the other three.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa couldn’t tell if he liked it or not that Bokuto and Akaashi were treating him somewhat normally. On the one hand, he was glad to have their support, of course he was. On the other hand, shouldn’t they be angry with him? Shouldn’t they be uncomfortable, now that he’s shown how dangerous he can be?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that he accidentally fulfilled the stereotype of a violent fae wasn’t lost on him; he almost wanted them to flinch away from him, give him some sort of validation for the way he felt. Like all this time his calm demeanor was a farce, that he was actually some sort of time bomb or land mine, unstable and unsafe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was giving fae a bad name, losing control of himself in such a violent way. How could anybody know they were safe around him? Not that regular humans weren’t capable of abuse, too. He knew that much firsthand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Bokuto was offering him a bowl, apologizing for the unevenly cut onions - as if anybody cared - and sitting him down at the table, next to his own seat and across from Kuroo. It was hard to swallow around the tension in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway through dinner, he spoke up. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me, that night. Thank you for stepping in,” he said, looking first to Kuroo then to Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shared an unreadable look. Kenma shrugged slightly. Kuroo put down his chopsticks. “You don’t need to apologize to us. If anything, I almost think you deserve an apology for being in that situation. We chose to tell Atsumu, not you, what was going on. We kept you in the dark on purpose so you wouldn’t have to see any of it firsthand. Maybe we shouldn’t have, but I wish somebody could have made that choice for me, back when I found out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was Nekoma. Somebody told him, he didn’t remember who or when - between all the emotions and violence and exhaustion, the whole two days were a blur - but these were the people he was supposed to turn in. The surprise! Good guys. They were more tired-looking than he’d been expecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I am glad I didn’t see everything. It doesn’t change the fact that this could all have been avoided if I’d trusted Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo’s face turned grim. “It wouldn’t be the first time somebody ended up being a racist prick capable of horrible things even when you think they’re good. Whether you should have trusted him isn’t for us to judge. This time, you happened to be wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma, who’d been quiet until now, spoke up. “Evidence would have been nice, before you almost killed him, though.” Sakusa’s stomach clenched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo tipped his head in acknowledgement. “True. But honestly...I think you’re taking it harder than anyone else, Sakusa. I’m not saying you shouldn’t feel bad, because you should. I just think it’s not unforgivable given the circumstances.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, like, you were in a super bad place! It’s never okay to hit people - well, good people, well, unless they deserve it - ah, whatever! Point is, we get why it happened and we can all see that you feel like shit about it. Now you just have to make sure you don’t do it again. Also maybe bring him cupcakes or something.” Bokuto said with a medium grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t.” Sakusa swallowed. “It won’t ever happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto beamed. “Well, then there we go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Atsumu -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed, despite Sakusa not having actually made his point yet. “You’re definitely going to have to talk through it with him. But he seems like a reasonable guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was. Atsumu was a reasonable guy, Sakusa knew. He chose not to mention that he’d tried once and it had gone horribly. “Yeah,” he said instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, Sakusa saw Kenma slipping his broccoli bits into Bokuto’s bowl, with a fond grin in response. When he went to take some of Bokuto’s meat, though, he was blocked by Bokuto’s chopsticks and an outraged glare. Kenma pouted, but relented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe avoid Hinata until you make up with Atsumu though? He’s pretty mad at you,” Kuroo said. Sakusa hummed, because that made sense. Everyone should be, and it was miraculous that they weren’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto finally slid some of his meat into Kenma’s bowl. Kenma’s answering smile was small but genuine. He tried to give Kuroo some of his broccoli as well, but it was met with a much angrier response. “If you don’t eat at least half of your broccoli I’m taking your PSP for two days.” Kenma ate the broccoli with a scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was happy to see Kuroo and Kenma getting along so well with Bokuto. He hadn’t really spent time around them, but it was clear they fit in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi came through the door just as they were finishing their food. He bent to kiss Bokuto on the head, and ran an affectionate hand across Sakusa’s shoulders before getting his own bowl of food and carrying it over to the couch. Kuroo got up first, surprisingly, and sat hip-to-hip with Akaashi on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa helped Bokuto with the dishes, and by the time they went to join the others in the living room, Kenma was curled under one of Akaashi’s arm, seemingly asleep, with his head on the man’s shoulder. Kuroo was on Akaashi’s other side, talking in a low voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto and Sakusa sat on the soft carpet, after scooting the coffee table out of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, we have a plan,” Kuroo said, with no transition whatsoever. Akaashi huffed a quiet laugh out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Sakusa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma, Hinata, and I have been taking out these blood taking places, right? Some are on boats, some in warehouses, whatever. They’re everywhere. We couldn’t ask for help because the bounty on us is so fucking high we couldn’t even trust other fae people not to turn us in. The best we could do was take out the blood-taking groups, which we’re still doing, but we couldn’t get to the main people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mount Doom,” Kenma interrupted, apparently awake now. Kuroo’s eye twitched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. We call them Mount Doom. I was outvoted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would have voted with you, Kuroo,” Akaashi said, looking right at Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo coughed. “Point is: we don’t know where the blood goes, or who controls the whole operation. We were hoping to track the shipments, and hopefully they’ll lead us to the bad guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mount Doom.” Bokuto said it this time, laughing with Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh. “Yes, Bo. Mount Doom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma nodded in satisfaction. Sakusa didn’t know how they maintained their senses of humor in such a dark line of work, but he was glad for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s kind of a vague plan,” Sakusa offered. It was, sue him. Akaashi agreed, too, pointing at Sakusa with pursed lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo ran a stressed hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. We’ll work on it. But however we do it, we’ll need all the help we can get. So that means Atsumu, and whoever else you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded. “I’ll make sure Atsumu is all right working with me. And I have a friend who will probably help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo leaned back. “All right. Good. That’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji and I are helping too, obviously,” Bokuto said, taking a break from the game of footsie he was playing with Kenma, who nodded in agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re already helping, bro.” Kuroo said with a soft smile. Bokuto blushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait, Bokuto blushed. Sakusa started putting pieces together, admittedly slowly. Whatever was going on with these four, it seemed positive. He restrained a smile of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can tell Atsumu about the plan. He hasn’t been around, right?” Sakusa said, despite his instinctive reaction being to leave Atsumu out of it. Seeing Atsumu hurt - even (or especially) at his own hands - had shifted something for Sakusa. A protectiveness he’d never felt before burned somewhere inside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want Atsumu to get hurt again, not if he could help it, and if they just left Atsumu in the dark, he would be safer. But Sakusa also wanted to mend his relationship with the man, and coddling him or trying to control him would do the opposite of help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed Atsumu to know he was trying to change, trying to trust him like he should have all along, even if that meant including him in this mission. No matter how dangerous. Atsumu hated being left behind, Sakusa knew. Hated being left in the dark, too. So Sakusa would listen for once, and give Atsumu all the information even if he didn’t want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being a good person was kind of inconvenient, Sakusa noted. Inconvenient for his own priorities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he left pretty quick,” Bokuto said, pulling Sakusa back from his musings. “I think he was at his brother’s, but he might be home now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, he’s at his own apartment now,” Akaashi said. His arm was now along the back of the couch, behind Kuroo, and his fingers were playing idly with Kuroo’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all looked to him in surprise. “Hinata tried to get me to convince Osamu not to let him be alone yet,” Akaashi explained. Then he shrugged, and everyone but Sakusa laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds like Shouyou,” Kenma said. Sakusa wouldn’t know. What he did know, was that he felt an incredibly irrational spike of jealousy that Hinata was allowed to fuss over Atsumu the way a very private part of Saksua wished he could. He pushed it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He decided to leave once Bokuto challenged Kuroo to try to beat him in Smash Bros. Sakusa didn’t hate video games, but he didn’t particularly like the shouting that came along with friendly competitions. He knew first-hand how energetic Bokuto could get; he didn’t know how Akaashi dealt. Akaashi didn’t look reluctant to join the other three, though. He just quietly said that he’d play too if they switched to Castle Crashers, to which the others easily agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odd times in this house, Sakusa thought fondly. He’d never seen Akaashi agree to play games so quickly - usually Akaashi and Sakusa were the ones to run from those kinds of activities, finding themselves having quieter moments together instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck with Atsumu,” Bokuto called after him as Akaashi walked him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, good luck,” two other voices called in sync.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Akaashi said quietly, while Sakusa put his shoes back on, “Koutarou might have had a point about the cupcakes. I’m sure bringing him a gift of some kind, especially food, wouldn’t hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re probably right,” Sakusa mused. “Maybe a scone. He likes those.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chose to walk instead of teleport, remembering how his head had ached earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was properly dark now, the stars invisible for all the light pollution. The alleyways Sakusa drifted through were quiet and small, the narrow stone walls trapping the sound of his footsteps between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew Atsumu loved the stonework of the city. If not for the aesthetics, which were nice, then for the constant murmur of stony voices. Sakusa’s favorite part, though, was the way they always felt damp - the constant moisture giving life to all sorts of plants and mosses. Akaashi had been the one to make him appreciate them, coaxing little gardens in the potholes around his apartment building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Sakusa closed his eyes, and tried to filter out the faraway sounds of the city sounds, he could almost hear the tiny scurrying of unknown creatures in and among the urban flora. Who knew what sorts of beings lived in the cracks of the pavement and the hollowed-out spaces between old bricks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was half-tempted to switch courses and make his way straight to Atsumu, but he didn’t. For one, it was late, and it felt inappropriate to grovel past 10pm. Also, Sakusa would rather die by fire than risk meeting another one of Atsumu’s bed partners. For obvious reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was the fact that he wanted to either pick up a scone or try to bake something, and he didn’t know a bakery that would still be open. Or any respectable place, for that matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when he got home, he slipped his shoes off, took a lukewarm shower, and spent the time in between wakefulness and sleep wondering what Atsumu’s face would feel like cupped between his palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He was considerably more nervous the next morning, starting from the moment before he woke up. His brain pulled him from sleep uncomfortably early with the remnants of a stress dream wherein a spider moved into the corner above his bed and refused to move even when Sakusa asked very politely. He woke up before he could demand the spider pay rent - that would have gotten him out, Sakusa was sure. He didn’t know any spiders that could afford what he paid for this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was less than thrilled to find a very real - and very large - fuzzy spider waiting on his counter with a tiny written note from Yuki tied to its back with a piece of string. How did it even get in? He eyed his closed windows suspiciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look what I can do! Her name is Max please give her some bugs to eat. - Yuki :)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>What a horrible little friend Sakusa had made. The audacity - Sakusa was pretty sure he’d explained, in detail, his dislike for spiders. Which was probably the reason Yuki sent one, now that he thought about it. The arachnid stared up at him with beady eyes, unmoving. Sakusa’s skin crawled unpleasantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This day was already bad, he’d like to start over. Instead, he spent twenty minutes hunting for flies - unsuccessfully - before finally teleporting to the edge of town to grab a cicada to feed to the spider only to realize he could have just teleported to Yuki and returned her filthy messenger and given her a stern talking to but teleporting again would be too painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, his eyes watered and his head throbbed and he had to find a way to fit age-appropriate insults onto a piece of paper the size of his thumb. Wait, how did she even know where he lived? Just how far did her influence reach? He realized with acute fear that he’d spend the rest of his life wondering if bugs were spying on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to be friends with a (almost) ten-year-old girl was his first mistake, clearly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His second mistake was probably waiting until today to finally speak to Atsumu. His hands were clenched in his pockets the whole way to the bakery, and he had to speak around his nervously-gritted teeth which probably made him sound ruder than he’d intended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His third mistake was never once choosing to abort this mission. Because then, sooner than he was ready for, Atsumu’s door was in front of him and his knees felt weak and it was probably too early for the late-riser and all Sakusa could hope was that he wouldn’t fuck this up.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi, readers! Thank you so much to everyone who has been interacting with this fic, be it through comments or kudos. You guys make me so happy :)<br/>I'm skiing this weekend, hoping some snow comes. Hope you're all doing okay.</p><p>Don't forget to uhhh drink water or something. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Don't worry, Atsumu, someone's here to talk to you that isn't a rock.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Atsumu mopes, then gets on a rollercoaster. Sakusa stitches a heart on his sleeve, and hopes to never have to do it again. Butterflies take a nap in the sun.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy birthday Omi?</p><p>For those who didn't see it, I've added a bokuakakuroken pwp to this series! (that...has more kudos than this right now. Maybe my calling is just as a smut writer instead :P)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Even after he scraped his sore body off Akaashi’s couch, let Osamu lead him into a car and to Osamu’s guest room, and took what felt like a three-day nap, Atsumu felt like shit. It was better now, no doubt, especially since he wasn’t stuck in that office room anymore - alone save the asshole pebble - with his thoughts and pains. But still bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu and Suna were great, mostly. They were gone during the day, which was simultaneously annoying and relieving. Annoying because he couldn’t watch tv without getting a migraine, and Oikawa could only spend so many hours on the phone with him (a lot of hours, but finite nonetheless). Relieving, because the only thing worse than being alone was being around people. No, he would not elaborate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The most aggravating part of it all though wasn’t the pain, or the boredom, or the emotions he kept cycling through like some kind of Shakespeare drama. The worst part was that he missed Omi, as much as he didn’t fucking want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he didn’t - want to, that is. He wanted to be clean and done with Omi, and the rational part of his brain knew he should be. The less rational part resented Omi for leaving when Atsumu told him to, for not coming back the next day with an apologetic but still aloof expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu got so bored that week that he made Osamu buy him knitting needles and yarn, which he knitted into an entire lumpy uneven scarf that was entirely unseasonable and therefore useless. He could probably guilt somebody into wearing it come winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou stopped by almost every day, sometimes with Kageyama in tow. Atsumu didn’t know the pale necromancer well, but it was hard to miss the gooey fondness in their gazes whenever Kageyama and Shouyou made eye contact. It was still surreal seeing his old boyfriend, and feeling so distant from him, but Atsumu didn’t mind as much as he’d thought he would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was mostly just happy Shouyou was alive, and safe, and apparently falling in love. He deserved it, even if the scarred hurt of Shouyou’s “death” made it hard for Atsumu to be objective about anything. He’d meant it though, when he’d told Shouyou he forgave him for the secret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Osamu’s hovering and Suna’s jokes got old enough that Atsumu left in a huff back to his own apartment. The walk was miserable, body aching the whole way, and he only made it home without stopping to nap because of the kind cobblestones that cheered him on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So now here he was, a full week after leaving Owl and Orchid, lying in a pool of angst on his own floor, with Oikawa demanding through the front door to be let in. As if the prick hadn’t made his own key without asking, something Atsumu had only realized recently when he’d come home to find all his coffee gone. (Well, it had either been that or something supernatural and Atsumu knew his best friend pretty well).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, two minutes later, Oikawa was opening the door himself and dumping his shoes directly on top of Atsumu’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ew, I can practically smell your sadness. Knock it off,” Oikawa said in true Oikawa fashion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Atsumu whined. His body had gone numb from lying in the same place for so long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, baby, I brought snacks! I would have brought wine but I’m pretty sure that’s bad for your head.” Oikawa sat down crossed legged next to Atsumu’s head, which didn’t turn in his direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa set the pastry bag directly on his face. Atsumu didn’t move it. His breath was loud against the paper bottom of the bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, you’re being ridiculous. You were fine yesterday, when we talked.” Oikawa pulled the bag off, opened it, and fed Atsumu a little piece of croissant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, forgot what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgot to be fine today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa wrinkled his nose, which Atsumu could only see because he’d finally tipped his head in his best friend’s direction. He looked put-together as always, somehow, even in soft joggers and an alien t-shirt. It was probably the hair. Maybe if Atsumu had better hair, Omi wouldn’t have - his eyes started to tear up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut it, Oikawa. I’m recoverin’, I’m allowed to be emotional.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Yeah, but don’t you think this is excessive? He’s a piece of shit. I told you before and I’ll say it again for your pea-brain: Sakusa Kiyoomi is not worth your sadness, and if you’d just </span>
  <em>
    <span>let me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’d be happy to put a blood curse on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, let me rephrase. I hate him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> let me destroy him from the inside out.” That was a sentiment Oikawa had in common with Shouyou. Atsumu had purposefully been trying to keep them apart - they’d been friends before, through him - lest they enable each other’s violent fantasies against Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn, Atsumu had almost forgotten how scary Oikawa could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noooooo,” Atsumu whined. Oikawa stopped breaking little pieces of croissant off and just stuffed the whole thing in Atsumu’s mouth. It was too big to chew, but his hands were pleasantly numb at his sides so he didn’t move them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen yourself today, by the way?” Oikawa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu glared and replied with a croissant-muffled “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you look horrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Atsumu tried to reply, but it was probably unintelligible around the croissant that was quickly becoming soggy with saliva. Oikawa finally made a sound of protest and pulled the now-wet croissant out of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious, Atsumu.” Oikawa’s voice got softer. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu nodded. He hadn’t seen himself today, it was true, but he knew the bruises around his eyes had faded from black and purple to yellowish green with occasional blooms of red where tiny veins had burst. He didn’t have to look again to know how bad he looked. Fortunately, he thought he’d passed the threshold where he finally looked worse than he felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s healing abilities had helped him a lot, he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s dumb,” Atsumu said quietly, “I just - I dunno, I can’t help it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa stayed silent, which meant he might not argue for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I asked him to leave, and I meant it, I just didn’t mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If he really cared, wouldn’t he ‘ave come back? Or tried harder? I’m allowed to be mad at him, but it’s hard when he’s not in the same room to be mad at in person. Fucker should sit and let me yell at ‘im.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, but you already said it yourself, Atsumu: there’s no relationship to save. And what do you mean ‘if he really cared’? Of course he doesn’t.” Atsumu’s breath caught, but Oikawa continued, “Nobody who really cares about you could hurt you like he did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was right. Atsumu knew he was right, but he didn’t want him to be. Fucking sue him, but he wanted Omi to care about him - even if it was nothing compared to Atsumu’s own feelings for the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu made a wounded noise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa left, hips swaying, when it got dark out. First, though, Oikawa texted Osamu to snitch on Atsumu for not having eaten all day until the long croissant. Bastard. The onigiri that his beloved twin brought over eased the betrayal, though. Even if one of them had a bite out of it, courtesy of Suna.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s thoughts, as he lay in bed trying to sleep, lingered on Omi. Like they had been for weeks now, even before their fight. Actually, calling it a fight was generous. And false. Atsumu hadn’t even tried to fight back, which in his opinion, was what made a fight a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that he didn’t feel hurt, and angry, and betrayed. He did. He hadn’t forgiven Omi, no matter how bad the situation must have looked from his perspective. It was just that </span>
  <em>
    <span>in addition</span>
  </em>
  <span> to those bitter, painful emotions, he missed him. Missed his too-quiet laughs, the way he got so protective over children and innocents, the way he’d gone from tolerating Atsumu to bantering, scowling to chuckling. He knew Omi was a good person, deep down, even after this. He missed Omi’s quiet intensity, his stability. He wanted to see more of those fangs, how they looked when Omi laughed for real without a mask, or around a too-big bite of food. He couldn’t explain it, it didn’t make sense, but that didn’t stop him from keeping his phone charged in anticipation of a text that never came.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu slept in, like normal. He decided to shower, which had been a somewhat rare activity the past week between his bruised body and limited fucks to give. Then it was to the couch, which he’d spent too much time on already. He wished he could go to the gym, but Iwaizumi had expressly forbade him from coming in even to watch. Guy could be intimidating when he wanted, turned out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was only staring blankly at the wall, sloppily dried hair hanging loose around his face, for a few minutes before he heard a knock on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t loud and obnoxious, like his brother. It wasn’t accompanied by whining, like Oikawa’s always were. It wasn’t quick and excited, either, like Shouyou. He gulped. There were only a few people it could be, and he was half-way dreading the reveal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he was opening the door before he could talk himself out of it, and coming face-to-mask with Omi himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s hand was raised to knock again, and Atsumu couldn’t help but flinch. Some primal part of his brain registered the loose fist like a threat, and he jerked back instinctively. He didn’t miss the pained look on Omi’s face or the way he stuffed his hands quickly into his pockets, hiding the weapons. Atsumu’s throat ached. He hadn’t meant to flinch, and his heart hurt at the look of guilt on Omi’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked tired, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Atsumu knew he himself looked. He watched Omi cringe as he looked Atsumu up and down, no doubt reacting to his still-bruised eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was immediately awkward, with neither of them speaking. Omi was slightly hunched, trying to make himself smaller, as if expecting Atsumu to yell at him. To be fair, that was probably going to happen at some point. Good on him for being prepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stepped aside to gesture Omi inside. “Thanks,” Omi said in a choked voice as he stepped past Atsumu, just close enough for Atsumu to get a hint of smell from him - lavender soap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want coffee?” Atsumu asked, for lack of anything better to say. He’d been waiting to chew Omi out for a week, but now that he was here, he found himself tongue-tied and uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thanks,” Omi said. Well, now what was Atsumu supposed to do to avoid eye contact if he wasn’t making coffee? Fuck that, he’ll just make some for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are ya here?” Atsumu asked, turning his back. The words were an echo of what happened last time, but Atsumu hoped Omi wouldn’t back down so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t. “I need to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu snorted indelicately but waited for Omi to go on. In the meantime, he fiddled with the coffee grinder and used the loud noise to put some space between them in the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the sound died down, Omi spoke again. “I’m not...very good at communicating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve noticed,” Atsumu bit out. That was what had gone wrong in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu saw Omi wince out of the corner of his eye. He was filling the grounds chamber now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I want to be better. At it. For you.” Gods, he sounded so awkward. Atsumu loved it; let him suffer. The words sent a thrill through him, and he reprimanded himself for reading into them. Omi probably meant that in a professional sense, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu half-turned just so he could raise his eyebrows challengingly, but if Omi picked up on his disbelief - he probably did - he didn’t show it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi cleared his throat, still standing half-in half-out of the open kitchen. “Can we sit down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Atsumu replied. He needed the distraction, and making Omi stumble his way through this was making Atsumu feel a little less venomous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Can I just - I want to tell you about my childhood, if that’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lol, why? But okay, Atsumu supposed. Knowing Omi, it had to have a point somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do whatever ya want,” was what Atsumu said, but he cocked a hip against the counter and turned to Omi to show he was listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi pulled his mask off and set it on the counter, then slipped onto one of the barstools even though Atsumu had said he didn’t want to sit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi began. “My father was fae, my mother was human. So I’m actually half and half. I don’t know if you noticed, but my teeth are a little smaller than most fae.” Atsumu hadn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that Omi had begun, the words seemed to come a little easier, but were still choppy. “I had a happy childhood. My parents loved each other, I think. We lived on the edge of the fae quarter; my father worked in a factory, and my mother was a nurse. Neither had magic, but that doesn’t really matter. My father had to walk an hour to work each way, but he never complained.” Omi shifted in his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One day he didn’t come home.” Omi’s voice was getting quieter, and Atsumu had to strain to make it out over the sound of the Moka pot filling. “So we went to look for him, after mother came home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We hoped he was just late, but we eventually found him, dead, in some alley halfway to work.” Omi’s voice didn’t change, stayed inflectionless, and Atsumu wondered how many times he’d told this story. He assumed it hurt, but maybe Omi was just good at burying things. Seemed like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother tried to cover my eyes, but I saw it all. His ears had been cut off, his teeth pulled.” Atsumu gasped a quick breath, on accident. Back when there were fae hunts, the hunters would take souvenirs like that. Atsumu hadn’t heard of it being done in centuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck,” Atsumu said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s eyes flicked up to his, unreadable, and he said, “It gets worse, actually.” Atsumu wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the rest, but if Omi wanted to tell him, he’d listen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi kept going. “It was obvious he was targeted because he was fae. It...changed something in my mother. She’d never been cruel before, or anything but loving, but after that, she was different. It was like she blamed the fact that my dad was fae, or something, instead of the people who did it. It made her see me differently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s breathing picked up, starting to see where this was going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It started slowly, with missed meals or more chores or a pinch here and there when I was bad. Except it seemed like I was always bad, even though I tried to be good. It, uh, escalated. I didn’t understand at the time, why she was hitting me or locking me in the basement or pulling me from school to clean the house. I think she just hated me because I was fae, after what it had done to my father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s eyes were blank now, seeing something Atsumu couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One day something snapped. I didn’t - I didn’t mean to, but she pushed me into a door frame and I lost it. I don’t even remember what happened, just that I was so angry one moment and covered in her blood the next. I left that night, went straight to the shelter. Nobody asked questions. I was eleven, I think. I don’t even know if she’s alive - the last image I have of her is her bloody body at the foot of the basement steps after I pushed her down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi was breathing faster now, but his eyes were still dry and vacant. Atsumu didn’t know what to do - his own emotions had taken a backburner, too involved with the pain of Omi’s story. Atsumu wanted to hug him, but figured that probably wouldn’t go over well. He pulled the full Moka pot off the stove.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, when I saw you - that night - smelling like you did...I didn’t think. At all. I don’t even remember most of it. It was like my mother all over again,” Omi paused to look down at his hands, “It wasn’t the first time somebody I was close to ended up being the bad guy. I felt betrayed, and hurt, and it was happening again, just like last time, and I lost it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to do it. Or to take it that far. But I know that isn’t an excuse, and I know I’m responsible for my actions. I understand if you can’t be around me any more. Or if you never forgive me. That’s fair, I won’t ask you to. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. And how much I regret it.” Omi’s hand came up to scrub his eyes roughly, even though they still looked dry. How were they still dry, even Atsumu’s eyes were watery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have,” Omi’s voice finally broke, cracked right down the middle, and he was speaking quickly now, “I should have known you wouldn’t, but I - I didn’t, and I always knew I was dangerous, an animal like they said, and I should have known I’d fuck it all up somehow but </span>
  <em>
    <span>not like this</span>
  </em>
  <span> -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu cut him off, slamming his whole body into Omi and wrapping his arms tight around the taller man. It was awkward, because of the stool, but Atsumu fit right between Omi’s legs so they were pressed together neck to waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu felt Omi’s shuddering inhale cut off a moment before he slowly wrapped his arms around Atsumu too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Omi asked quietly, head tucked over Atsumu’s shoulder. He sounded hesitant, but his arms were still tight around Atsumu’s waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno.” And he didn’t - he was less mad now, still hurt, but mostly just trying to offer comfort in the only way he knew how. He realized this was the most they’d touched, ever. Omi was usually particular about his physical boundaries. “Jus’ wanted to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi sighed again, relaxing farther, showing how tense he’d been under the facade of calm he’d hidden his words with. “You aren’t afraid? Of me?” Omi asked, so quiet Atsumu barely heard him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pulled back out of the hug. Omi looked wrecked, the least put-together Atsumu had ever seen him. Under the exhaustion and pain on his face, though, Atsumu thought he saw a flicker of hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I ain’t scared of ya. Ya just said it was an accident, right? Besides, I’ve been shot before, which was way worse.” So maybe he was lying about it hurting less than being shot - hard to compare two very painful things - but, surprising himself, he wanted to ease some of the guilt on Omi’s face. That was weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was worse than an accident, Atsumu.” Omi’s voice was hard now, ragged around the edges. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>you. I could have killed you, you said it yourself. Why don’t you hate me, why aren’t you yelling or hitting or -” Omi’s voice cracked again, “Tell me to get out again. What’s wrong with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t know what was wrong with him, only that the spitting rage he’d felt before had vanished. He knew what Omi had done was wrong. But the backstory, the explanation, stripped the anger away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More than anything, it was clear how hard Omi himself was taking it. The fact that Omi understood the gravity, had apologized and promised to respect his space should he want it, made Atsumu feel like he had nothing left to add. Omi had it pretty much covered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, Omi. Ya seem pretty upset about it all, and ya genuinely regret it, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course. If I could take it back I would, and it’ll never happen again, I promise. You don’t have any reason to believe me, not after -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I believe you. And you’re trying to make up for it, right? I know ya hate talking about feelings ‘n shit, but ya knew yer communication problems were hurting me, so ya came to fix it. Right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi nodded, still looking miserable. “Words aren’t enough, though. I need to - I’m going to change, I’ll trust you more and talk to you about things that matter and - and my therapist said I’m bad at being vulnerable, so this is me trying that, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait, “You go to therapy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shrug. “I used to, when I was living at the shelter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, that wasn’t actually what he’d meant to say. It just slipped out though. “You’d really do that stuff? What, for me?” Atsumu scoffed a little at the end, and missed the way Omi’s eyebrows furrowed in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, yeah. If you even want me in your life, which I suppose was presumptuous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, though? Ya can barely tolerate me on a good day, Omi.” Ahhhh no, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say. He wasn’t fishing for compliments, or reassurance, he’d just wanted -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t tolerate you.” Atsumu’s heart began a slow but steady descent to the bottom of the ocean. Had he misunderstood?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear, and the last person you want to hear it from, but. Um.” Omi paused to shift his eyes away, a light blush on his cheeks - since when did Omi blush or pause? - before finally saying, “I have decidedly non-platonic feelings for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu opened his mouth to say - say what, exactly? But Omi continued hurriedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I expect you to feel the same. And even if I didn’t feel this way, I’d still want to do this. You matter to me,” Omi’s nose wrinkled in disgust even as he said it, probably at the embarrassment of having emotions at all, “And I care about you as a person.” Omi looked like he wanted to puke. “And learning to be a better friend to you matters, as well. Especially after I hurt you like I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wow, was it his birthday? Atsumu felt the sudden urge to pinch himself, but refrained on account of not wanting to be weird. Everything he’d been wanting and missing this whole week just strolled through the door and delivered his exact desires on a silver platter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apology, the determination to be better, the astounding fact that Omi not only didn’t dislike him, but actively liked him </span>
  <em>
    <span>in a romantic way. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s ears burned so hot they were probably steaming. He didn’t even know where to start, and now he was realizing he’d been quiet for too long and Omi’s cautiously hopeful face was beginning to settle into his mask of indifference and wait, no, don’t take it back, please.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same,” Atsumu coughed out. Gah, fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, same, I lika ya too Omi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He expected Omi to look happy, or relieved, but instead he looked kind of angry. “Even after what I did to you? You shouldn’t, Atsumu, I’m a terrible person to like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shrugged. “Can’t help it, tall and angry seems to do it for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have issues, Atsumu,” Omi replied, but with a hint of a smile this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, I know. Especially ‘cause I should be pissed at you but instead I’m just increasingly horny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked disturbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, what didja think would happen when ya showed up, apologized, proved yer a good person, and then said ya were in love with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say I’m in -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potato, potahto.” Atsumu smirked, very much enjoying what Omi looked like when flustered. It didn’t help that he realized he was still standing in between Omi’s spread knees, although with some distance between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s face got serious again. “Atsumu are you sure? Maybe you should take some time to decide if I’m really the type of person you want to be with.” Omi studied his hands again, fiddled with his thumb nail. “I don’t want to hurt you again, or lose control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya won’t. And even if ya do, I’ll actually fight back and probably win. So quit bein’ a coward and listen to what I’m sayin’ - I like ya a lot, so don’t let yer guilt keep ya from havin’ what we both want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it, a new light in his eyes. “Can I -” he raised one hand slowly, probably remembering Atsumu’s earlier flinch, to gently cup Atsumu’s jaw. Atsumu’s heart skipped in anticipation, his eyes widening slightly. Was he allowed to have this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s hand was soft and warm and dry. It was big enough to cover Atsumu’s face, probably, but instead it slid oh so gently over his skin until Omi’s fingers curved around the back of Atsumu’s neck, thumb tracing soothing lines beneath his ear and the hinge of his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu answered the half-question with an action, tipping forward to close the space between them. He felt, more than heard, Omi’s tiny inhale the moment before their lips touched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then they were kissing, they must be, because the alternative was that Atsumu was actually dead and this was what his brain had conjured to ease the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s lips were warmer than Atsumu’s, and unspeakably soft beneath his own. At first it was just a press, a statement, then Atsumu opened his mouth slightly to shift against Omi, dragging his lower lip up to tease the seam between Omi’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was agonizingly slow, the way Omi responded by pulling Atsumu’s bottom lip gently between his own, and coming back with a firmer kiss that made Atsumu shiver lightly with pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand on the back of his neck kept Atsumu close while Omi pulled back, inhaled in the space between them, and returned with another slow kiss. This time, Omi parted Atsumu’s lips with a tilt of his head and slipped closer with a lewd slide of his tongue against Atsumu’s. He felt Omi’s tongue lick inside, along his upper lip, the wet tip hot inside his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t wait to feel what that tongue could do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Omi pulled back, separating them, to press another kiss against Atsumu’s cheek. That, even more than the real kiss, made Atsumu’s heart clench. He’d almost expected Omi to be more aggressive, but the achingly tender way he held Atsumu’s jaw and the fondness of the cheek kiss were even better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sought Omi’s lips again, eyes drifting closed, more than happy to lose himself in touching Omi, tasting him finally after so long just imagining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He traced the curved point of Omi’s enlarged canine with his tongue, earning himself a sharp nip. He pressed his whole body closer, hands firm on Omi’s waist, and groaned softly at the friction it created between them. He’d imagined Omi between his thighs, but the reverse was good as well - the way Omi shifted closer on the stool, arching his back gently to tilt his hips better into Atsumu’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu trailed kisses over Omi’s jawline to suck lightly on his ear. He whispered, “Wanna -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not having sex five minutes after we got together.” His voice was raspy and low, breathy. Despite his words, Omi’s hips twitched forward again into Atsumu’s so their erections ground against each other harder and Atsumu tried and failed to keep down another quiet moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi pulled away a final time, pushing Atsumu away and adjusting himself in his pants with no indication that they’d continue. Atsumu considered pouting, but couldn’t commit to it because he was too full of bubbly giddy feelings, like sparkly wine on a warm afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he pulled away, though, Atsumu caught a glimpse of something funny sticking out of Omi’s jacket pocket. He reached out to snatch it, and his face scrunched up in confusion when he pulled a crumpled up bag from his favorite bakery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya carryin’ trash around in yer pocket, Omi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wasn’t expecting the immediate embarrassed blush that overtook Omi’s face as he averted his eyes and coughed self consciously. That was weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s voice was raspy and hushed like he could barely force it out. “I bought a scone for you as an apology but then I got too anxious on the way over and ate it myself. I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one next time,” Omi said, laughing uncomfortably by the end of the sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu cracked up. Yes, he loved scones. Yes, he loved food gifts. Yes, he could sympathize with stress-eating some food originally meant for someone else - hell, he did it to Osamu all the time even when he wasn’t stressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just for fun, though, he morphed his face into the saddest, most pitiful expression he could. He had it on good authority that his puppy dog eyes were powerful. “Ya...Ya ate it? Instead of givin’ it to me?” With a little extra effort, his eyes began to water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked panicked, blush quickly fading to shifty eyes and a bouncing leg. “Ah, I know, um, I didn’t mean to, but I kept gritting my teeth and it was giving me a headache -” Jeez, he almost sounded like Atsumu! Good thing to know, Atsumu thought, that the unflappable Omi could be brought down by some fake tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aha, I’m just givin’ ya shit, Omi. But I appreciate the thought,” he continued with an angelic smile. Ah, there was the irritated expression he’d missed so much! Omi’s embarrassment quickly faded to a look of annoyance, but even that seemed exaggerated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu collapsed back into Omi like a wet noodle, still lightly chuckling. Omi caught him, arms around his waist, and Atsumu let the happy relief spread through his body like honey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya know how ya could make it up to me though?” Atsumu suggested with a leer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still no, Atsumu. Maybe tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tonight?!” Okay, teasing aside, he actually wasn’t against taking it slow. But if Omi was offering, he definitely wasn’t going to say no.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A while later, they were doing nothing on the couch - </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu would like to stress - when Omi apparently remembered there was another reason he was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone wants your help taking down the trafficking ring,” he said, without any sort of lead-in like the socially obtuse urchin he could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had seen that coming, and was glad Omi brought it up. “I’m not really up for anything until I’m healed? But after that, of course. No way would Shouyou lemme sit this one out,” Atsumu said with a little grin. “Besides, I want ‘em gone as much as the next guy. ‘Course I’m helpin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At Omi’s carefully neutral face, Atsumu kept going. “What, ya didn’t think I wouldn’t wanna help, did ya?” He thought they were past this, what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>after all this why was he still questioning -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I just. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.” Omi looked embarrassed, which was a look Atsumu was quickly realizing he liked. “After I hurt you, it really sank in how...how fragile people can be, I guess. And it’s a dangerous mission, that I’d feel more comfortable with you avoiding altogether, but I’d never ask that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sneered. “Damn right, ya wouldn’t. I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fragile,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Omi. I c’n handle myself, and I wouldn’t be yer </span>
  <em>
    <span>responsibility </span>
  </em>
  <span>even if I couldn’t. I’m comin’ whether ya want me to or not,” he spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked taken aback, but covered it quickly with anger of his own. “I didn’t say I was going to try to control you, Atsumu. Just that I was worried, which I’m allowed to be. Especially if we’re going to...date, or whatever you want this to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu felt his fists clench, trying to tamp back the anger that was building in him. He didn’t want to be coddled, and he didn’t appreciate Omi suddenly putting the responsibility on him to label their new relationship. He was so aggravating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, Omi was allowed to be worried - hell, his brother worried too, and he wasn’t suffocating about it. But...he also didn’t want to fight. He’d fought with Omi too much already, and didn’t want to let those wounds bleed over into whatever new leaf they were turning over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi sat patiently, if a little anxiously, while Atsumu had his little brain thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu carefully smoothed his face out and tried to remember what he learned in that de-escalation training he’d taken. No luck, he’d spaced out the whole time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I wanna date ya Omi.” That clearly hadn’t been what Omi had been expecting him to say, but he looked relieved. And happy, in his own quiet way - just the smooth of an eyebrow, the quick upturn of a lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu took a breath and kept talking before Omi could respond. “And I know yer allowed to be worried. I won’t ask ya not to be. I just...ya know I’m strong, right? I’m good at my job, Omi, I’m good at this. Just ‘cause I let ya - literally - beat me once, doesn’t mean I’m weak. And I need ya to stop thinkin’ of me that way. It’s insulting and unfair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu knew Omi hadn’t said that in as many words, but the fact that he even brought up Atsumu staying uninvolved meant the thought was in his head and worth addressing. Omi disagreed, apparently, considering the way his face had fallen into a frown by the time Atsumu was done speaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you want to date me. I want to, also.” Good, get that out of the way, Atsumu thought. Whatever Omi said next, Atsumu was glad they were on the same page here. Even if it meant they were having their first disagreement as a couple .2 seconds after establishing their relationship. Goals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you’re weak. I never have. But I can worry about you without compromising the respect and belief in your abilities that I have for you. If you remember, I specifically said I </span>
  <em>
    <span>would never</span>
  </em>
  <span> ask you to change your choice just because I was worried for your safety. I care about you,” Omi blushed the cutest most awkward blush when he said it, “And that means I’ll always worry. So you can go ahead and get over that right now, because it’s not changing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu couldn’t - he didn’t - what? Why did he feel like crying suddenly? Whatever fight he’d been holding onto drained out of him. Omi was right, he’d been reading too far into things. Seeing something that wasn’t there because he was scared Omi would see him differently after that night. It seemed he didn’t, not in a negative way at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if sensing the sudden change in Atsumu’s heart, Omi reached out gently towards his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he’d even registered the movement, Atsumu jerked back, hand snapping halfway up in an aborted protective movement. Atsumu almost hoped Omi hadn’t seen it, but the way his face fell showed that he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment of silence. Atsumu reached out to take Omi’s outstretched hand, paused in its movement, and brought it towards his face. He cupped his own cheek with Omi’s hand, turning to drop a quick kiss against his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do like ya, Omi. ‘Course I do. I liked ya before ya beat the shit outta me. And I like ya now, but it’s...I know I joke about sex a lot and stuff, and I’m not saying I don’t wanna ‘cause I still do, I just - okay. What I mean is, it might take some time. It was a hard one-eighty, from that night to now. I just...need to get used to it. But I wanna, okay? And I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked like he wanted to argue, bitten lip sliding out from between his teeth, but Atsumu interrupted before he could even speak. “We don’t hafta talk about it, ‘kay? Promise. There’s not even anythin’ to talk about. I want this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure, though? You don’t have to not talk about it for my sake; I know I’m bad at this,” Omi dropped eye contact again, but he didn’t move his hand from where it was still resting gently on Atsumu’s face, thumb petting gently under his eye, “But I meant it when I said I’d get better. For you, I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes watered for real that time, because he knew how much his (boyfriend!) hated emotional talk and clear communication, and here he was doing it perfectly and offering even more. Maybe Atsumu should check for signs of a concussion?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea I’m sure, Omi. Now will ya </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>just kiss me already, I’ve been waiting for like a billion years -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi kissed him. Softly, like he might break despite them both knowing he wasn’t fragile, and full of promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before they could get far, though, Omi pulled away with a distracted, “Wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Atsumu asked, moving in to kiss him again, but Omi had turned his head. Atsumu made an angry little growl noise, hopefully under his breath. Omi’s sharp exhale-laugh told him it had not, in fact, been under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, what.” Atsumu finally pulled his eyes to where Omi’s were still. All along the ledges of his windows, countless butterflies rested, slowly sunning their wings in the midday light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, those,” Atsumu said with a shrug. “They showed up a couple days ago, I have no idea what they’re doing. Gave ‘em a little sugar water though, which they seem to like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way,” Omi said in a strange voice. Then, joy of joys, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>giggled. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was horrified - was nobody gonna tell him his boyfriend had the cutest, breathiest giggle in the whole world?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I know why those are there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu gave him a questioning look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember Yuki?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The little girl we saved, like, a month ago? Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm.” Omi looked a little bashful, but maybe that was just his face now - permanently awkward in the face of all his gooey emotions (for Atsumu!). “I’ve been visiting her at the shelter a lot. She just learned she could talk to bugs...And turn into them. She probably sent all those butterflies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaaat, that’s so cool! Man, I betcha hated that, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya know, ‘cause ya hate bugs ‘n stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um. Yeah it was kind of unpleasant. But it’s actually very interesting magic, and none of the bugs have really bothered me yet.” Omi’s eyes narrowed on “yet”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you want them gone I’m sure if I asked her she’d take them away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I actually kinda like ‘em? Like a natural little….decoration,” Atsumu said, waving his hand flippantly towards the brightly colored slow fluttery-flies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, good. I’ll tell her. I told her about what happened with us - not details, just that I hurt you - and she probably sent these to cheer you up or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s heart, it couldn’t take the abuse! Who was this soft!Omi and what had he done with Atsumu’s surly partner? Didn’t matter; Atsumu liked them both.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu only tried once to initiate sex that day, and took the gentle rejection with surprising grace if he did say so himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did, however, convince Omi to curl up and watch a movie with him. Maybe “convince” wasn’t the right word, since Omi had agreed before the question was fully out of Atsumu’s mouth, but whatever. Potato potato.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ended up watching “When Marnie Was Here” and Omi didn’t even make fun of Atsumu for crying his fucking eyeballs out, just held him tight. Omi was reclined on the couch, Atsumu between his legs leaning back against his chest, and if Atsumu fell asleep after the movie, well, that was between him and Omi (and the new ache in Omi’s back).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How come ya took so long, Omi?” Atsumu asked, before he was fully awake again. He was warm, wrapped in Omi’s arms, feeling his slow breathing against Atsumu’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Omi sounded half-asleep too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu struggled upwards, propping himself on an elbow to flip over, still between Omi’s thighs, to lie chest-to-chest. He dropped back down, tucking his head into Omi’s chest. The skin of his clavicle was warm against Atsumu’s nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya know, to come here. Why’d ya wait a whole week?” Atsumu’s voice quieted, “I was startin’ to think ya weren’t gonna come.” He tried to keep his voice light, to not betray the depth of emotion he remembered feeling when it seemed like Omi might have been out of his life for good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...You told me to leave,” Omi replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Atsumu propped himself back up with the sole purpose of making Omi see his incredulous expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I tried to apologize, at the shop. You told me to leave - I didn’t know if or when you’d be comfortable with speaking to me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu narrowed his eyes. “Well I didn’t mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>At Omi’s confused expression, Atsumu continued. “Sure, I was pissed, but I didn’t actually want ya to leave!” Omi’s face got even more confused, if that was possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just how thick was his skull? “I wanted to yell at ya, and then I wanted ya to come back the next day and try again. How was I supposed to know ya meant yer apology if ya didn’t keep at it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi finally found his words, his voice raised in disbelief. “In what world is that effective communication? You told me to leave, so I left, how was I supposed to know you really meant ‘actually, no, come back’?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That brought Atsumu up short. “Well, ya shoulda just...I dunno, I guess I just wished that you’d stuck around anyway. Like...it made me sad that ya didn’t try harder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu watched Omi visibly struggle to prevent the incredulity from creeping into his facial expression. Omi closed his eyes and took a breath, then opened them again. “To be fair,” he said, “I just did what you told me to. You get that, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu nodded, starting to feel embarrassed. Omi continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I get how...maybe, it looked like I wasn’t genuine if I only tried once. Is that what you mean?” Atsumu shrugged, feeling more ridiculous by the minute. He appreciated that Omi wasn’t being a dick about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s stupid, okay? It’s just how it felt. I know I told ya to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not stupid. Just next time, how about you tell me what you really want so I don’t accidentally do the wrong thing. Fair?” That was more than fair - fair, in Atsumu’s opinion, would be Omi telling him he was being stupid. But he didn’t. He just...validated him. Cringe. He loved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, ya need to stop being nice now. It was cool at first, and now it’s freakin’ me out,” Atsumu said instead of the soft gratitude he should probably be spewing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi laughed though, unoffended. “Sorry. You’re ridiculous and difficult - is that better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pouted again, but dropped his head back down to Omi’s chest, tired of holding himself up now that their serious talk was over. “Yep, that’s better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry it took me so long,” Omi said quietly, after a couple minutes of silence. Atsumu’s heart clenched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Glad ya came eventually,” Atsumu mumbled into his warm skin. “Speaking of coming, though,” he said, inching his hand down Omi’s abs to the waistband of his pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi didn’t even rebuff him this time, just laughed until the sound made Atsumu’s ears burn with a pleased blush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Omi eventually left, even though Atsumu not-so-slyly implied he could have stayed the night. They’d ended up spending the whole day together, talking through the hazy details of the plan. Atsumu made them coffee, Omi made them ramen, and they took a walk to get a replacement scone for the one Omi had eaten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi also got Atsumu to agree to hang out with Yuki some time soon, not that it had been hard. Atsumu didn’t even know Omi had been visiting her so much, or that he was so involved in her life. He felt kind of bad for not following through the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not five minutes after the door was closing behind Omi, Atsumu grabbed his phone and was clicking Oikawa’s contact before his headphones were even plugged in. He paced as it rang, and stopped still when Oikawa answered with a sleepy, “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu checked the time: it was only, like, five pm. “The hell’re you sounding so tired about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, Atsu-chan. I was napping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At five pm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you must know, Iwa-chan kept me up </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>late last night. Literally - you know how we got that new bondage rope? Okay, well it’s -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oikawa, focus. I don’t give a shit about your sex life.” Oikawa cackled, and Atsumu knew what was coming even before Oikawa said it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what you said laaaast time! Or did you already forget how you jerked it while I told you exactly what Iwa -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“OKAY Okay, I thought we agreed never to talk about that again, Oikawa shut up </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut up,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu yelled over the sound of Oikawa’s laughter getting louder and louder until he was just wailing on the other side of the phone and sucking in huge lungfuls of air in between bouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, gods, I still haven’t even told Iwa about that. He’s gonna flip, hang on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwa-chan, come here, I have something I need to tell you!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay wait no, that’s not even why I’m callin’. I gotta tell you somethin’,” Atsumu said, trying desperately to prevent Oikawa from telling Iwa what they’d done - not that he’d care, not in a serious way, but Atsumu didn’t think he could show his face around the gym for a while if he knew Iwaizumi knew he got his rocks off hearing about his best friend’s sex life. It had been a dry couple of months, okay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sensing the shift in tone, Oikawa’s laughter quieted down and Atsumu faintly heard him tell Iwaizumi to get lost only moments after summoning him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?” Oikawa asked, after Iwaizumi had chewed him out for wasting his time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yer gonna hate me, but just...don’t get mad, okay?” Atsumu asked, resuming his pacing around the living room and chewing on the inside of his bottom lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No promises. Spit it out, Miya.” Ooh, Oikawa using his last name meant business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhhhh, Omi came over ‘n I basically forgave him instantly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fucking hate you,” Oikawa finally said, sounding even more tired than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but like - he was really perfect. He did everythin’ right, ‘Kawa. He was nice, and understandin’, and explained his side - which honestly was a trip, and he has some serious trauma hidin’ in there - and but then! Uh, we’re datin’ now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking hate you, Atsumu, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we literally decided he was a piece of shit and we hate him. Explain how you went from that to this in like a day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Less than a day, actually. Like an hour,” Atsumu mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...He’s not even that hot, Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Yeah he is, but that’s not the point. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>point</span>
  </em>
  <span> is that he totally gets how he was wrong and he feels really bad and honestly it’s not like there was any permanent damage,” Atsumu ran his fingers gently over his bruised eyes just to illustrate the fact that they were in recovery, then continued, “He really...he was ready to be outta my life, Oikawa. And I don’t want that, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t. I just - I just wanted him to care, and he does, and honestly I think he feels worse about it than everyone else does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man must have a magical fucking dick, I swear. I still hate him, Atsumu, don’t even ask me not to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t. I understand how bad it was, I really do. I know it wasn’t okay. But I think he gets it too, ya know? Ya shoulda seen ‘im. He was torn up, I don’t think he even expected me to forgive him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa made a grumbly agreeable noise on the other end. “I can’t believe you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu beamed. “Okay but now I get to fuck him and that’s a huge win for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you not think with your dick for two fucking seconds?” Oikawa snapped. “What if it happens again? What if he loses it again? And Bokuto’s not around to undo it? What then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu paused. He really didn’t think he was in danger, but he could understand where Oikawa was coming from. If the situation were reversed, Atsumu was sure he’d be saying the same thing. But Oikawa hadn’t seen Omi, hadn’t seen the subtle shake in his hands and the way his guilty eyes avoided eye contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t seen the premature acceptance when he’d assumed Atsumu wouldn’t want to be with him, not after this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya just gotta trust me, I guess. I wanted to tell ya ‘cause yer my best friend, and this makes me happy, but...well, I dunno. I just’ want ya to support me, I guess. Ya don’t have to be happy about it, I know it’s hard ‘cause he hurt me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just...I feel like you aren’t taking this as seriously as you should be. I think you would see this differently if Osamu met someone, caught feelings, and wanted to date him, then the guy flew into an uncontrollable rage and beat him unconscious and then came back a week later to apologize, saying he’d never do it again, and Osamu </span>
  <em>
    <span>believed him </span>
  </em>
  <span>and agreed to date. Do you understand how fucked up that sounds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And...Yeah, Atsumu did. It wasn’t that he didn’t get it, it was just that the fear that should accompany his thoughts of Omi was missing. He knew how abuse worked, how the abuser would apologize and grovel and promise to never do it again, every time they did it. But this felt different - he couldn’t explain it beyond what he’d already tried to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi understood, was the thing. And Atsumu truly believed that it was a one-time mistake. It helped that everyone who knew Omi had been just as surprised and horrified by his unprecedented actions, proving that it wasn’t a normal occurrence for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do get it, Oikawa. I promise. I understand how it looks, too, but ya didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>him after, ya didn’t get to hear him out the way I did. So, I’m doin’ it whether ya want me to or not, and eventually you’ll see that I’m right about him. He won’t hurt me again. I know he won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa made a very dramatic and frustrated sound that Atsumu roughly translated to mean, “I hate you affectionately and you’re right and I support you but you gotta understand I have to be verbally reluctant so you know how suspicious I am of this situation especially after what happened AND I expect details of every sexual encounter you ever have with him since I had to sit through your simp phase - which is ongoing - that I’ll pretend to suffer through but secretly really enjoy,” and would probably be typed as ASLKDJFAOSEIHFUAEWIAYWEGAYWEGAYAFYFAYFAYAFEYA!ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu just hummed in agreement, ending with a quiet, “Yep. So that was my day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa laughed at the understatement. “Damn, I guess. Still don’t like him though, you’re not changing my mind on that,” Oikawa said, and there was rustling on the other side as he presumably got up and walked around. “Iwa says he hates him too.” Atsumu couldn’t make out enough of the noise on the other side to tell whether that was true or not, but he knew Iwaizumi would kill anyone that hurt his friends so it probably wasn’t an unreasonable statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, I know. Shouyou does, too. I dunno what Akaashi and Bokuto think, or the other two. It’ll be interesting workin’ with ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa grunted in acknowledgement, and Atsumu wondered if Oikawa was doing something else at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh wait, shit, that’s the other reason I’m callin’ ya. We need some blood magic if that’s cool?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? You know I don’t really like doing that, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but it’s for the trafficking thing, so I told ‘em you’d do it. You will right?” As if it was even a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa scoffed. “Of course I will, you should have led with that. Do you have details? What will I need to do exactly?” Something loud crashed on the other side, followed by a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s tracking? The details aren’t all there but we’re gonna get one of our fae guys taken and then trace the blood where it’s goin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. I can do that, yes. When is this all happening? I’m sure Iwa and his gym rat buddies will be happy to help if you need them, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu smiled softly, suddenly aware and grateful for the friends he had. “Good. Cool. Uh, maybe in a week or two? Nekoma is still taking down warehouses ‘n shit, but we don’t wanna step it up before the plan comes together in case they catch on. Maybe a week? Two?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right. We’ll be ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wandered to his room and collapsed on the bed, suddenly incredibly exhausted from everything that had happened that day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go now, if that’s all?” Oikawa asked. “Don’t forget to send Sakusa my worst. I’m watching him, Atsumu, I’m serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu smiled to himself. He wasn’t too worried - he knew Omi would pass whatever tests Oikawa felt he needed to give the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah. Thanks for listening, Oikawa. And..ya know. For lookin’ out for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone has to,” Oikawa laughed, “without us, you’d still be an angsty little disaster, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was an exaggeration, but whatever. “‘Night, Oikawa...Love ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you back, idiot. Goodnight.” The call ended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that late yet. Atsumu already felt lonely, in addition to feeling bone-tired from all the emotions of the day. Spreading his fingers over the cold blankets beside him, he couldn’t help but wish Omi had stayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the same time, he had some things he needed to work through that he hadn’t told either Oikawa or Omi. He’d never lied - he did return Omi’s feelings, and he did want to be with him, but he might have...underrepresented some things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like the way he’d been having nightmares about it happening again, or dreams that would start off with sex and end with Omi leaving him beaten on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or the way he’d said he wasn’t afraid of Omi, but he couldn’t ignore that small piece of him that expected violence now at any given moment, each movement feeling like a possible precursor to pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the way the trust he’d had for Omi had been shattered so completely that it was hard to find the pieces to put it back together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because while his logical brain truly believed Omi wouldn’t hurt him again, his little monkey brain in the back of his head was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And this left Atsumu conflicted - far too conflicted for his liking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just had to hope that with time, he’d be able to feel the things he’d told Oikawa and Omi about not being afraid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And...what if he was wrong? What if this wasn’t the reparations he was assuming, and instead was some elaborate trap, meant to ensnare him and keep him and hurt him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, as if to banish the thoughts. No. He believed Omi, he did, and whatever doubts he had were just the lingering effects of his trauma. Not an indication of the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mind made up, he showered, and weighed the possibility of Omi accepting a booty call this early in their relationship.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, SO, I was having a hard time deciding whether Atsumu would be ready for a relationship with Omi this easily/this quickly after what happened. I'm worried I didn't give them enough time to heal and really let the severity of Sakusa's actions sink in. So if this seems too fast to anyone, I’m so sorry - it’s hard to gauge the pace of my own writing. Please leave a comment if you have any thoughts.<br/>My thinking was that Atsumu, for better or for worse, just wants to move on in a sense? And he's having a lot of empathy for Sakusa's situation - probably more than Sakusa is. At the same time, we have Atsumu seeing just how hard Sakusa is taking it all and Atsumu gets to see that Sakusa understands the gravity of what happened. I hope I conveyed that well enough, and I'm sorry if I didn't.  The other thing to keep in mind too, is that Atsumu and Sakusa actually lead very violent lives - a lot of it is off screen, but like...they both kill people and are technically morally gray characters, which in some ways could lessen (in Atsumu's mind) the impact of a physical assault like this. He's been beat up before~?</p><p>Also, have this *gem* of a note that Ems left on the google doc:</p><p>this scene: really sweet and tender<br/>Atsumu's brain: can't wait for Omi to eat my ass</p><p> </p><p>also next chapter, the rating will go up for smut purposes. So... you all have that to look forward to &lt;3<br/>(goes back to sleep in my teeny moss cave)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Sakusa gets his rocks off</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa visits a friend. Atsumu gets a fright. They almost come together - it's close.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*bangs coconuts together*<br/>listen up!! this is porn. like, mostly porn. If you don't like that, feel free to ctrl f "****" because I put that before and after the porny parts.</p><p>Suddenly I feel like this fic is having an identity crisis. Is it a little horror story about trafficking and dark magic? Is it sakuatsu angst and hurt/comfort? Is it fluff? Is it plot with porn? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯<br/>I'm the master of this destiny and I've taken my hands off the wheel.</p><p>(also I found some typos that I fixed here, but if there are more please point them out to me so I can fix them &lt;3)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sakusa could barely believe it. All day after he left Atsumu’s, he felt like he was floating in a space of disbelief. He was giddy one moment, then contemplative, then joyful again, then worried. He hated rollercoasters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the walk to the shelter that afternoon, his mind kept flitting over what had happened, replaying it like bits of film behind his dazed eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu, leaning in to kiss him, breath warm against his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu, flinching away from Omi’s hand and the shard of ice it flashed through his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relief, blinding relief, when Atsumu said he forgave him - did he? Not in so many words, but it felt like he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thrill of heat flickering between his legs, along his fingers, as he kissed Atsumu the way he’d been wanting to for weeks now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More guilt, when Atsumu confessed he hadn’t really meant for Sakusa to leave him so alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then heat again, from the way Atsumu fit so easily between his legs, in his arms, with his loud mouth slack in sleep because the movie was too boring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was in so far over his head it wasn’t even funny, and all he could think about was how fucking lucky he was that Atsumu was more forgiving than he had any right to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did he like my friends?” Yuki beamed up at Sakusa, when they were working in the vegetable garden again. “I dunno what his favorite color is so I just sent all of ‘em,” she smiled down at her dirt-crusted fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did, actually. He was confused though, until I told him who sent them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah yeah, I couldn’t get paper to strap to them, they’re so teeny,” she pinched her fingers close together, mimicking a butterfly’s delicate body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa passed her a handful of weeds to put in the bucket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So did he forgive ya or what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa smiled, couldn’t help himself, only feeling a little embarrassed at just how many teeth he exposed in his joy. “Yeah, he did. You were right, I just had to apologize even harder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Now ya can take me to meet him! Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t mind that idea at all. He’d never spoken with Yuki about the possibility of adopting her, figuring it was something they could talk about when the time came. But his traitorous, foolish mind couldn’t help but imagine - just for a moment - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu, bullying his way into PTA meetings. Yuki, coming home from school with the empty bento one of them had packed that morning. Sakusa, developing a taste for coffee because Atsumu shouldn’t be allowed to drink the whole pot every morning. Akaashi and Bokuto, spoiling Yuki within an inch of her life - buying her clothes and toys and probably dangerous plants and weapons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someday, waking up in the bed they’ve shared for years, getting a phone call from Yuki that she’s coming home from Uni for the weekend. Watching her grow and thrive with Atsumu by his side, ready to catch them both if they fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Omi-Omi? Ya in there?” Yuki waved a small hand in front of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat flushed his face and neck, and he scrambled to think of some excuse for his weird behavior. It didn’t matter, Yuki’s eyes narrowed in wily understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya were thinking gross thoughts about yer boyfriend, </span>
  <em>
    <span>huh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>weren’t ya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One advantage of being as freakishly tall and strong as Sakusa was, especially compared to little almost-ten-year-old-girls, was that Sakusa could stand up quick as a flash, grab her under the armpits, and toss her into the air high enough that she shrieked in delight and forgot all about her inquisition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because yeah, Yuki, he really had been thinking the grossest of gooey thoughts about the most insufferably endearing man he’d ever met. But hell if he was going to say it out loud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Soon, I promise,” he told Yuki as he was leaving and she asked when she could hang out with Atsumu. And he meant it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went home then, to take a much-needed shower during which he tried not to ruminate too hard on thoughts of Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His boyfriend. It had been a while since Sakusa had dated someone, the last close thing he’d had to a relationship having been whatever he’d had with Skag. He wasn’t good at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to be good at them, though, and he hoped it would be enough - that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be enough - for Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole day had been better than he could have imagined. It was hard to think that some time between knocking on Atsumu’s door with his heart in his throat and now, their relationship had changed so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel the rotten guilt and fear in his heart being slowly replaced by affection and budding steadiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t out of the shower for long, dressed in comfortable clothes and deciding whether to visit Akaashi, when Atsumu surprised him with a text. For all the joking advances and flirting they’d done earlier, Sakusa was still surprised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>A Miya: come here?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa still thought “A Miya” and “O Miya” were funny contact names, especially since Atsumu’s made him sound like one of many Miyas, but now he wondered if he should change it to something more personal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kiyoomi: ...now?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>A Miya: Yeah. Pls?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The use of “please” worried Sakusa a little, made it feel less like the booty call he’d assumed it might be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kiyoomi: everything good?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>A Miya: it’s fine but get ur ass here u clown</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He changed the contact name in the space between texts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: pls &gt;:(</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sharp pop, like ear pressure equalizing, and Sakusa was there in Atsumu’s bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu evidently wasn’t ready, since he shrieked and chucked his phone directly at Sakusa, who accidentally dodged it instead of catching it, leaving it to smack the wall with a loud thunk and slide to the carpet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa couldn’t help but laugh at the still-shocked expression on Atsumu’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, I forgot ya could do that,” Atsumu whined, picking himself up off the floor. Atsumu’s eyes traced down Sakusa’s body, taking in his soft black t-shirt and gray joggers, then lingering on his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His bare feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That Atsumu was still looking at. Sakusa was suddenly wishing he’d worn socks, was there something wrong with his toes? They were kind of long, but pretty normal if he thought so himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa regretted not spending more time drying his hair after his shower, too, wincing as a drop fell from a damp ringlet to slide over his clavicle. Atsumu watched that, too, with a hungry look in his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Atsumu said, moving towards where Sakusa was still standing in the middle of the room, “What brings ya here?” The look in his eyes was sly, dark and promising, and Sakusa couldn’t help but laugh again, just a huff of breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know actually, I think I might be lost,” he replied, going along with the joke, still waiting for Atsumu to make the first move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I think yer just where ya need to be.” Atsumu reached out then, tugging Sakusa closer by his waistband, keeping him close while Atsumu tilted his head up at last to connect them in a kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa took a second to pause his thoughts - that he was lucky Atsumu liked him, enough to do this, even though he didn’t deserve it - to feel the movement of lips against his own. Atsumu had already brushed his teeth, his tongue slightly minty when Atsumu slipped it into Sakusa’s mouth to tease along his upper lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Atsumu was pulling him, still by the waistband, walking backwards, towards the bed. They only broke the kiss long enough for Atsumu to crawl back far enough for Sakusa to follow him onto the bed on hands and knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa reached down to grip one of Atsumu’s legs around the back of his knee, lifting it - spreading them - so he could settle one of his own legs between Atsumu’s thighs. Atsumu groaned and Sakusa lifted the leg further, tucking it around himself, so he could grind his hardening dick against Atsumu’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This close to Atsumu, Sakusa could smell everything. The mint toothpaste he’d used, no cologne which meant he’d showered, the faint but present scent of his Old Spice deodorant. Beneath that, the smells that made up Atsumu himself; his shampoo, his soap, his lavender laundry detergent - the same as Sakusa - and underneath it all, the simple smell of his skin and his blood pumping strong in his veins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breaking away from their kiss, Sakusa moved to Atsumu’s neck instead. He nibbled, getting a taste of that flavor, careful not to suck too hard and leave marks. Atsumu moaned when Sakusa tugged his earlobe gently between his teeth, and groaned when Sakusa licked a stripe up the side of his neck - tasting the hint of sweat that had started to build on his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s hands were in Sakusa’s hair, gripping one moment then releasing to soothe a hand down his neck, then scratching lightly at his scalp when Sakusa came back up to kiss him again, this time licking right into his mouth, using his thumb to pull Atsumu’s bottom lip down so he could bite it the way he so often wanted to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was perceptive, he knew. And for all Atsumu was good at hiding parts of himself, Sakusa was starting to see just how important it was that he look deeper than the messages Atsumu tried to send.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew Atsumu wasn’t over it, just like that, like he said he was. He knew being hurt, the way Sakusa had hurt him, left scars that could be hard to see. He didn’t know why Atsumu didn’t tell him - if it was pride,or guilt, fear, or out of consideration for Sakusa - and he didn’t know how to help him, either. What he did know, was to make sure he wasn’t ever making it worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So as he kissed Atsumu, he listened to his heartbeat for signs of panic. As he sat back to help Atsumu pull his shirt off, he looked for signs of hesitance in Atsumu’s eyes. As he gripped Atsumu’s hips hard and lifted them to grind against his own, he made sure the scent of Atsumu’s sweat didn’t turn acrid with fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made sure every breath and moan he pulled from the man under him was pure pleasure, and they were, as Atsumu began to pant beneath him with every roll of his hips and every shift of Sakusa’s thigh between Atsumu’s legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do ya wanna top?” Atsumu asked, when Sakusa pulled away to remove his own shirt and toss it to the floor next to Atsumu’s. Their pants went next. Sakusa pulled his own sweats off first and then went to help Atsumu, who was just lying there running his hand lightly over where his erection was tenting his shorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Sakusa answered, “Yeah, I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had bottomed before, and wouldn’t mind doing it again for Atsumu another time, but all his fantasies over the last couple months had been of being between Atsumu’s legs, pushing up into him, feeling him writhe on his cock, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu, he very much would like to top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially since Atsumu made such pretty sounds already, whining like he was desperate for it, and Sakusa couldn’t wait to see what those moans would morph into once he was finally inside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, good,” Atsumu said. “Been wantin’ this for so long, Omi, ya don’t even know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa ran his hands reverently over Atsumu’s bare torso, enjoying the way his fingertips left trails of goosebumps. Atsumu must have really sensitive skin. He pinched a nipple, not hard, but Atsumu gasped slightly all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was fully hard now, and he used his hands to spread Atsumu’s knees farther apart so he could fit comfortably in between. Atsumu bent his knees, spreading his legs even farther - far enough to be lewd - to welcome Sakusa close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were both just in boxers now, and the cool air made Sakusa’s skin prickle where he wasn’t pressed against Atsumu. Where they were touching, though, it was hot. Hot enough for Sakusa’s fingers to pick up hints of sweat on Atsumu’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another rock of his hips pushed Sakusa’s dick up, in between Atsumu’s cheeks, and he could feel the warmth even through two thin layers of fabric. Wanting more, Sakusa sat up on his heels, knees spread wide with Atsumu’s legs draped over them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed Atsumu by the hips and yanked him forward onto his lap, pulling him closer than before. Slowly, he slid his fingers around Atsumu’s body to his ass, gripping a cheek in each hand and pulling them apart just enough so his hard cock could slide between them, up Atsumu’s crack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front of Sakusa’s boxer briefs was soaked and slippery with precome. This close, every rock of Sakusa’s hips slid the swollen head of his cock under Atsumu’s balls, across his perineum, to catch on the slight indent of his entrance. Sakusa pushed, just a little, just to imply that without the fabric between them he might just slip inside, then retreated to roll his hips again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was panting now, fingers taut on Sakusa’s arms, urging him forward with every movement. “C’mon,” he whispered, and groaned in frustration every time Sakusa’s hips pulled away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the next thrust Sakusa pushed a little harder, almost shaking with pleasure when the tip of his cock caught on Atsumu’s rim again and instead of backing away he pushed forward just a little, so the tight muscle relaxed slightly, allowing him just a hint of the pressure inside. Atsumu keened, high and long, trying to pull Sakusa forward with his heels in Sakusa’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t even inside yet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they weren’t even naked yet, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but Sakusa had to back off so he wouldn’t come. Something about the way he could feel Atsumu’s entrance through the fabric, hot against the wet tip of his cock, and the way it opened just slightly under the pressure, made Sakusa burn with a lust he hadn’t felt in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was beyond attraction. This was attraction and affection and lust and something soft, emotional, in the way Sakusa watched Atsumu’s eyes flutter closed, his loud mouth alternating between biting his bottom lip and releasing sounds of pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was having a similar reaction, if the large wet spot on the front of his boxers was any indication. Sakusa wanted to taste it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to get inside, yes, but he also wanted to savor this - their first time together, wanted it locked in his mind forever - and wanted it to last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Releasing Atsumu’s ass, Sakusa slid down the bed until his face was right on top of Atsumu’s crotch. “Wha?” Atsumu said, sounding confused at the sudden shift in positions. Then Sakusa was crushing his face into Atsumu’s groin, smelling the crease of his thigh, opening his mouth to taste that slick fabric stretched taut over the head of Atsumu’s cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without giving Atsumu time to prepare, Sakusa yanked Atsumu’s waistband up over his cock, which slapped hard against his abdomen, and put his mouth on him, kissing wetly at his head before running his tongue from base to tip. Atsumu cried out, thighs clenching under Sakusa’s hands as he tried not to buck upwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was salivating even before he got a taste, but when the salt burst on his tongue, he couldn’t help but moan in response. He tasted so good, bitter and salty and musky, better than Sakusa could ever remember another person tasting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went slow, slurping over Atsumu’s swollen head, dipping his tongue into his slit, smiling when it made Atsumu’s breath stutter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brought his right hand up, first to roll Atsumu’s balls in his palm and then to run the rough pad of his thumb base to tip, dragging saliva and precome with it. He pulled back to admire the way the dim light made Atsumu’s cock glisten, and watch as a glob of precome formed and dripped slowly down the shaft. He licked it up, tongue dipping into the slit again and pulling a shaky exhale from Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s cock was flushed red and so hot on Sakusa’s tongue. Slowly, he parted his lips and sank down further on it, pinning Atsumu’s hips with one hand so he couldn’t thrust down his throat. Pushing past where it was comfortable, Sakusa kept going until his nose was buried in coarse pubic hair. He swallowed once around Atsumu’s length then sucked all the way back up until just the head was in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teasingly, he licked around the crown and let it go with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just as he went to do it again, Atsumu cried out, “W-wait, Omi stop!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alarmed, Sakusa pulled off and let go, wiping some precome from his bottom lip with a finger as he looked at Atsumu for signs of distress - he’d thought Atsumu was enjoying himself, had he missed something?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was instantly clear - Atsumu dropped a hand to his own cock, squeezing the base and grimacing. “I don’t want - I don’t wanna come yet,” he explained, physically holding back his orgasm and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was that keyed up already? Atsumu’s eyes were pinched closed, his breath coming fast, and he writhed in discomfort while he held his cock tightly without jerking it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was glad it wasn’t just him, then, that was in danger of coming way too fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it was any other time, Sakusa would do it anyway - coax Atsumu through as many orgasms as he could have, save his own pleasure for last, but this time he didn’t feel like he could wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cock was so hard it hurt, the friction from earlier having done nothing to relieve it, and here was Atsumu saying he wanted to wait to come. He could work with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to come on my cock, is that it? Want to wait until I'm inside you?” He asked, just to watch the flush on Atsumu’s face darken as his eyes popped open and he glared weakly at Sakusa with watery eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I fuckin’ do, Omi, so how about ya get on with it?” Trust Atsumu to be brash and annoying even while begging for a cock in his ass. Sakusa loved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay. Where’s the lube?” Sakusa asked. Atsumu had drifted his hand down past his balls now to tease at his entrance, knees bent to show Sakusa everything. Some day, Sakusa would eat him out until he cried. For now, though, he could get on with it like Atsumu asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his other hand, Atsumu gestured towards the night stand. He probably didn’t have to ask, Sakusa realized. Where else would it have been? Then again, he didn’t put it past Atsumu to be the type of guy to just leave his lube nestled in his sheets or under his pillow or on the floor when he was done with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi c’mon c’mon </span>
  <em>
    <span>c’mon,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu whined, when Sakusa apparently took too long to drizzle the cool gel over his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should wait a little longer, just to tease you. You could at least say please,” Sakusa murmured, admiring the view in front of him. Atsumu was splayed out, hands in his own hair now, gripping, hips twitching as if looking for contact that wasn’t there.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please, Omi,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu whined, glassy eyes on Sakusa’s slick hand, paused in the air between them. And yeah, okay, it wasn’t as if Sakusa weren’t throbbing himself and practically drooling at the thought of finally getting to feel that heat around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu groaned the moment Sakusa touched him there with the tip of one slick finger, anticipating. He only took a second to spread some lube around his hole before sliding his middle finger inside, as far as it could go, without stopping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was tight, but easy with the lube. Atsumu’s low groan stopped after a moment and he just breathed. Sakusa gave him a moment to get used to it before sliding it out and back in again, relishing how hot and smooth he was inside and the way Atsumu’s muscle clenched around him. He could feel his heartbeat there, so intimately, and the reality that they were connected sank into Sakusa’s mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back to look, getting a sick satisfaction from watching his finger disappear into Atsumu oh so slowly and the way Atsumu’s legs had goosebumps now from the feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably before Atsumu was expecting it, Sakusa joined his ring finger with his middle, pushing both back inside and drawing another surprised moan from the man beneath him. He scissored them gently on the third thrust in, widening them as he drew them out and watched Atsumu’s hole stretch around his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dripped more lube on his two fingers without pulling them out all the way and slid them back in without waiting for it to warm up. Atsumu scoffed, but it trailed into another moan when Sakusa crooked his fingers up to brush against his prostate - not much, just a teasing caress, enough to feel good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did it again on the next thrust, and paused in his stretching to massage Atsumu’s prostate, unrelenting, until his thighs were shaking and a chorus of “Omi - OmiOmiOmi,” was falling from his lips. Atsumu was falling apart on his fingers, and Sakusa was lucky enough to be the cause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only then did he push back in with the third finger, biting his lip hard enough he tasted blood so he could ignore his own arousal and focus on making Atsumu lose his mind with feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was working. His entrance squeezed around Sakusa’s fingers with every nudge to his prostate, and his hand had gone back to squeezing his cock hard enough to be painful instead of pleasant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa kept the three fingers of his right hand inside Atsumu, still, and smoothed his thumb over the taut rim of Atsumu’s hole even while he reached for the condom with his left and tore it open carefully with his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wasn’t watching. His eyes were squeezed closed, head turned to one side and teeth worrying a red spot on his lower lip - not unlike Sakusa was doing to his own. Because of that, Atsumu didn’t notice when Sakusa pinched and rolled the condom on with his left hand and between the space of one breath and the next, replaced his fingers with his cock and rested it at Atsumu’s entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noticed then, eyes snapping open and his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. His lax legs came up to wrap around Sakusa now, heels encouraging him closer. “Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah, Omi,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he panted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wanted to wait, wanted to tease until Atsumu’s voice broke with his begging, but he didn’t have the patience for it. Not when he could see and feel the blunt head of his cock pressing in slightly, Atsumu’s hole shiny with lube and splitting so easily for his girth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brought a hand down, hooked his thumb into Atsumu’s rim to tug it, enjoying how it let his cock slip just a little farther inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he was pushing. Slowly, to make sure there was no discomfort, he pressed his hips forward. He groaned when the head slipped in, encased in tight heat. He paused there, halfway inside, to reach up and press a firm kiss to Atsumu’s mouth, who mewled against Sakusa’s lips. He pulled back and sat up again, then kept pushing in - so far in that Atsumu must have felt him in his abdomen as well as his ass - until he was buried completely inside the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited now, positive that if he tried, he’d come in three thrusts. This way, Atsumu could take a second to get used to him, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s head was tilted to the side again, his hands fisted near his hips. The flush had spread down his chest from his neck, and sweat was glistening faintly between his pecs and abs. Atsumu’s hands crawled up from where they were resting, tracing over where Sakusa’s hips met with Atsumu’s ass, then farther up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa got the hint and pulled his own hands from where they’d been holding Atsumu’s hips steady to meet Atsumu’s, fingers tangling and lacing together. It was an achingly soft moment, even while they were breathing hard and tingles of pleasure spread like electricity over Sakusa’s skin, to be holding hands like they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since Sakusa’s hands were no longer holding Atsumu’s hips to his own, his cock slipped out slightly, but not enough to matter. To fix it, Sakusa shifted his weight forward - he’d been sitting back on his heels, keeping Atsumu’s legs spread with his own, while Atsumu lay on his back in front of him but now he leaned over Atsumu, bringing their bodies impossibly closer together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa brought their entwined hands on either side of Atsumu’s head, knuckles white with how hard he was gripping. Atsumu’s fingernails left indents in the skin on the backs of his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes were still bruised, and Sakusa had one second to find it kind of hot before he remembered how they got there and was overcome with guilt again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi,” Atsumu groaned with Sakusa finally got close enough to dip his head and trace kisses along Atsumu’s throat, ending with a bite to his jaw, “You feel so fuckin’ good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu, you’re so -” Sakusa said, cutting himself off by kissing Atsumu soundly. Each wriggle of Atsumu’s hips made Sakusa move around inside, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa bit Atsumu’s lip, making Atsumu clench around him and groan into Sakusa’s mouth. He slipped his tongue between Atsumu’s lips, overwhelmed with the feeling of being inside him in two separate places while Atsumu just twitched and jerked beneath him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Sakusa felt in control enough of his body to move. He drew his hips back slowly, savoring the cling of Atsumu’s body around him before sliding back inside faster, skin meeting skin with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack</span>
  </em>
  <span> and grunts from both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, Sakusa stayed lying on top of Atsumu with some of his weight braced on his elbows. He panted into Atsumu’s neck, biting occasionally, as his hips pulled back and thrust forward again and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their hands were still clenched tight, grounding them both in their emotions as they took their pleasure from each other’s bodies. Atsumu kept his legs wrapped tight around Sakusa’s hips, giving him even more power on his thrusts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa could feel Atsumu’s hard cock where it was leaking pre between their bodies, trapped under Sakusa’s hard torso. Sakusa didn’t want to stimulate the other man too much, hoping to make it last, so he reared back again into the position he was in before. He pulled his hands from Atsumu’s, ignoring the plaintive whine it earned him, and moved to Atsumu’s hips instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He used his hands on Atsumu’s hips to lift the man up, into his lap, forcing his back into an obscene arch so his shoulders were still back against the sheets but his ass was half in the air, legs dangling uselessly to the sides. It was an easy position for Sakusa’s fae strength, and the burn in his biceps as he yanked Atsumu onto his cock over, and over, and over again just added to the pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had stretched out, arms above his head to grip the pillow above him. It made his ribs stick out, chest heaving with every breath. His hips were so high in Sakusa’s lap that his precome trailed up instead of down, pooling in his bellybutton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, ow, fuck, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ow, fuck,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu panted. Sakusa panicked, stopping his thrusts to assess whatever was going on. Atsumu gently took one of his own outstretched hands with the other and brought his arm down, slowly, with a pained grimace on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’nothin’,” Atsumu panted, cradling one arm against his chest and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh. Of course. His ribs were broken and only just healing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa felt like an asshole. Before he could pull out, or try to help, Atsumu used his own feet against Sakusa’s back to push him back inside, hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M’fine, Omi. Keep goin’, I was gettin’ close,” Atsumu huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Atsumu wanted to ignore it, Sakusa would follow his lead. So Sakusa readjusted his grip on Atsumu’s hips and pulled out halfway, hesitating a moment and then thrusting himself back inside firmly and resuming his earlier pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The angle was perfect now. Sakusa’s cock stimulated Atsumu’s prostate on every thrust. “Y-yeah, like that, like -” Atsumu whispered, voice husky and breaking. His eyes pinched closed and one hand jerked towards his crotch, like he was going to jack himself, then moved to his hip instead, settling over Sakusa’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s moans got higher and breathier, each push like a punch to his diaphragm, and Sakusa knew he was close. He was, too, knew he wouldn’t make it more than a dozen more thrusts, so he dropped one hand from Atsumu’s hip to circle his cock - loosely, not enough to push him over the edge but enough to drive him crazy with stimulation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu writhed, legs tensing and abs flexing as he tried in vain to escape the direct attention Sakusa’s cock head was giving to his prostate and the unsatisfyingly light jerks Sakusa was giving his cock. “T-too much, Omi, gonna come, it’s too -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu choked on his groan, voice dipping into a higher register as his dick kicked in Sakusa’s hand with the first spurt as he came hard enough that it shot up to his own neck. Sakusa followed not a moment after, euphoria crashing through his body in one great wave, teeth clenching as he moaned louder than he had all night, burying himself in Atsumu’s ass and staying there, grinding in tiny circles as he emptied into the condom even as Atsumu finished coming all over himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had a sudden desire to fuck Atsumu bare and know that his come was inside him, filling him up, only to seep out after his softening cock when he pulled out. He wanted to watch his come dribble out of Atsumu’s swollen hole, gaping slightly and unable to keep it inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they hadn’t actually talked in depth about their sexual health yet, and this was good too. Sakusa winced as he pulled out, his body quickly switching to oversensitivity. Atsumu whined at the loss, still lying in a fucked-out puddle on the bed, so Sakusa slipped two fingers back inside and felt Atsumu try to clench around him the way he had earlier, only to find he was too fucked out to make it fully tight again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping his fingers there, Sakusa climbed back up Atsumu’s droopy form to kiss his slack mouth, easily swallowing the murmurs and moans Atsumu made when Sakusa’s fingers stroked lazily over his prostate, just light enough to feel good without over stimulating him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Sakusa was practically sick with affection for the man under him. He was boneless, every muscle relaxed, and Sakusa could hear his partner’s heartbeat slowing and his breaths getting deeper even as he lazily kissed Sakusa back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hnng,” Atsumu said, against Sakusa’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Sakusa asked, trying not to smile - Atsumu would pick up on it immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nnyzgoooooood,” Atsumu tried again, and Sakusa started wondering if he’d fallen asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Use words, Atsumu,” Sakusa whispered. He withdrew his fingers from Atsumu, earning another quiet whine, and the cold air brushed his still-wet fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dropped down next to Atsumu, under one outstretched arm, and buried his face in Atsumu’s armpit area. Sue him, Atsumu smelled good. Even when the smell was sweat. Immediately after Sakusa removed his hand from Atsumu, Atsumu shifted over to sling one leg over Sakusa’s prone form. With some grumpy and difficult readjusting, they settled with Sakusa on his back and Atsumu curled into his side, head on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I feel so good,” Atsumu drawled around a yawn. Sakusa raised an eyebrow and didn’t comment on how someone could feel good with come all over them. Atsumu darted out a kitten lick on Sakusa’s nipple, presumably just to be annoying, but it actually felt kind of nice so jokes on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s sweat was drying and cooling on his skin, he still hadn’t disposed of the condom (it was on the floor - ew), and Atsumu was pinning one of his arms into the bed and cutting off circulation, but Sakusa had to agree - he felt good, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shifted the pinned arm, tipping Atsumu even closer so their bodies were in contact top to toe, and contented himself by tracing his hand lightly over Atsumu’s skin. Turning slightly and craning his neck down, he dropped a gentle kiss onto Atsumu’s hair, who made a satisfied rumbly sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” he whispered, even though it had probably been too long to reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sharp pain in his chest startled Sakusa, and it took him a second to realize Atsumu had fucking bitten him totally out of the blue. “Prick,” Sakusa said, flicking Atsumu in the forehead but laughing all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was warm next to Atsumu, even if the air was cool on his drying skin, and the sound of his partner’s breath deepening relaxed Sakusa and - he fell asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometime later, Sakusa woke up in an immediate state of irritation. His pubic hair was fucking disgusting with dried come and lube, his whole body felt crusty with salt even though it probably wasn’t that bad, and - Atsumu was </span>
  <em>
    <span>even worse. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They’d never wiped the come Atsumu had shot all the way to his chin, and while they slept some of it had solidified between them like some kind of nasty glue.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Breathe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can just clean it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’d always had a thing about messes, especially gross ones, but he was much better now than during childhood. It was rare it actually bothered him much these days, but all the flaky dried come was doing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He disconnected himself from Atsumu, wincing when the glue-come pulled at his skin. He walked to the bathroom alone and turned it close to the hottest it would go. He waited, staring vacantly at the toilet, until there was a healthy amount of steam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was still asleep in the bedroom. He barely stirred when Sakusa lifted him easily from the bed and carried him into the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh?” Atsumu mumbled, when Sakusa brought him gently into the shower, under the warm spray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to set you down, okay?” Sakusa said. And then Atsumu was waking up faster, startling in Sakusa’s arms and barely keeping his footing when Sakusa set him gently down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omiiiiii, whyyyyy,” Atsumu wailed quiety, rubbing at his sleepy eyes with one arm and using the other to brace against Sakusa. Sakusa smirked when he saw the wobble in Atsumu’s legs, the tell-tale sign of a man well-fucked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gross, that’s why,” Sakusa said, just loud enough for Atsumu to hear. He groaned in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as Sakusa let go of Atsumu to reach for the soap, trusting him to keep himself upright, Atsumu collapsed onto the floor in a barely-controlled pile of limbs. He tucked his knees up and leaned his head back into Sakusa’s legs, and looked for all the world like he was falling asleep again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu no, you’re covered in come.” Sakusa abandoned the soap to run a hand fondly through Atsumu’s now-wet hair. It was a lot darker like this, and Sakusa wondered for a moment if this was what it looked like before he’d dyed it. The strands created rivulets of water that ran over Atsumu’s closed eyelids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was intimate, more so than Sakusa had expected Atsumu to indulge in with him after what he’d done. But there he was, sitting criss-cross on the shower floor, eyes closed and facing upwards with a slight smile on his face. He was beautiful, and Sakusa could have sworn he felt his heart throb in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And whose fault is that?” Atsumu asked, choking slightly on the water that filled his mouth when he’d spoken. He spit it out in a graceful arc, and even that was endearing to Sakusa - that was how he knew he was really gone on this man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yours,” Sakusa said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu frowned (cutely). “Yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, yours actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes finally opened, narrowed against the cascading water. “Half ‘n half, final offer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, half and half.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m too tired, so if ya want me clean ya gotta do it yerself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jokes on Atsumu, Sakusa had already planned on washing him. Because running his soapy hands all over that tan skin, feeling all those strong muscles, and working the tension from his shoulders and neck sounded like a gift from the divine that he would not be passing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to coax Atsumu to stand again, and even when he did it was with half his weight against the wall and his eyes droopy closed while Sakusa ran gentle hands over every inch of his body. Occasionally Atsumu would moan softly in pleasure, but it was mostly silent - just the sound of the water hitting the tile, somewhere after two in the morning, while the city slept outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Sakusa was wrapping them both up, clean and dry in bed, Atsumu was already snoring lightly. Sakusa just tucked himself along his back, inhaled deeply right where his hair curled around the back of his neck, and fell asleep too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was glad he let them both sleep naked when he woke up well after sunrise with his hard cock rubbing hot and sticky along Atsumu’s crack. He was humping forward gently even before he was fully awake, enjoying the way his dick nestled between those cheeks so easily. This was exactly why he liked being big spoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wasn’t actually a particularly sexual person, normally. He’d always thought he had a normal (or low) libido, and sex had never felt like an especially important part of his relationships.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was changing his mind. Because now, even though they’d fucked the night before, all Sakusa could think about was burying himself in that tight ass again and listening to Atsumu’s whimpers and moans, relishing the way he clenched around Sakusa so perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s breathing and heart rate were increasing, indicating how close he was to waking up. When Atsumu’s hips started twitching backwards, his back arching to get Sakusa closer to the heat of him, Sakusa allowed his hand to finally move down. He ran it lightly down Atsumu’s rips, over his waist, to give his half-hard cock one, two pumps. He licked the precome from his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too hot,” Atsumu mumbled, throwing the covers half off. He shifted slightly away from Sakusa, so he was halfway face down - only enough to pull his knee upwards on the bed, exposing more of his ass for Sakusa, who licked his lips at the sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa pushed two of his fingers into his own mouth, covering them with saliva. Then he brought them down, over the generous curve of Atsumu’s ass, to press between his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, you’re still a little loose and wet,” Sakusa breathed, and Atsumu hummed in agreement. Sakusa hadn’t been very thorough in the shower, more focused on getting the come off of them, and he was glad for it now that one of his spit-slicked fingers slid easily inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu hummed when Sakusa’s finger slid all the way in, and arched his back into the pressure when Sakusa curled his finger to brush against the man’s prostate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second finger slid in easily, too. Atsumu’s rim was soft, giving easily with each push of Sakusa’s fingers. The leftover lube from the night before along with Sakusa’s spit was enough for two gentle fingers, but Sakusa knew they’d need more if they wanted to go further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, though, he was enjoying the way Atsumu’s hips twitched towards him again and again on every outstroke, like he wanted to keep Sakusa’s fingers as far inside him as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pinned Atsumu’s hips then with one hand, immobilizing him. With his hips held still, Sakusa was in complete control of the slow pace of his finger fucking. He admired the way Atsumu’s body accepted him so easily, cheeks parted slightly for his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the quiet of the morning, every stroke and scissor of his fingers made a slick sound that carried in the mostly-silent room. His own cock lay neglected, precome dripping from his throbbing head onto the sheets below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help it though; everything about this scene was too arousing, too domestic, too lazily sexual in a way he could see himself looking forward to every day of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu gave a shuddery exhale and screwed his hips backwards, ignoring the hand on his hip and forcing Sakusa’s fingers into him as far as they could go. “More, Omi, please, more,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon, Sakusa was back with the lube. Instead of lying behind Atsumu on his side again, however, he straddled the back of Atsumu’s legs - one was still hitched up, but Sakusa moved it back down so Atsumu was lying on his stomach, legs straight below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu gave a slight shudder and folded his arms beneath his head, a look of bliss across his sleepy morning face. His hair was a disaster. He looked like a rooster, with the way his blond hair stuck out at odd angles. Or maybe a pile of hay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were closed gently against the bright morning light that traced across his features like so many golden threads, and his lips were plush and pink, parted slightly around each breath he took. His eyebrows were furrowed, face drawn in pleasure already. Sakusa’s heart ached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of saying anything embarrassing, like accidentally confessing the depth of his feelings, Sakusa instead used both his hands to smooth down Atsumu’s back, gliding his thumbs through the thick muscles there and smiling when he felt Atsumu relax. He started at the top, kneading his traps and shoulders, then the muscles along his spine until he was a boneless drooling mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trailed his hands over Atsumu’s waist next, admiring the slight taper above the sharp cut of his hip bones and the dimples above his ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he fit his large hands over Atsumu’s ass, and the man below him wiggled slightly in anticipation. As hard as Sakusa was, leaking precome into the junction of Atsumu’s thighs and pulsing with every heartbeat, he still wanted to go slow and worship Atsumu’s body the way he hadn’t been patient enough to do the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, he pressed his thumbs into the creases below each cheek and lifted, pushing Atsumu’s ass higher. When he let go suddenly, Atsumu’s flesh bounced back down with a jiggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sighed, relaxed. A light slapping one cheek sent a ripple through his lax muscle and turned the surface a light pink. Atsumu wiggled again, trying to push his ass up towards Sakusa, but the weight on his legs prevented it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whined instead, settling for humping his cock into the bed below him - Sakusa watched his ass flex with the movement, two quick jerks before he relaxed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, instead of lifting his cheeks, Sakusa parted them wide with a handful in each palm. He held Atsumu there, completely exposed, and just looked while Atsumu wriggled slightly this way and that, trying to escape his gaze. Atsumu’s hole was still slightly red from yesterday, not gaping but not all tight and pink like it had probably been before Sakusa’s cock had spent so much time there the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, Atsumu clenched and Sakusa watched him tighten up, then dropped one handful to run a thumb lightly over the skin of his asshole. He drew back, ignoring Atsumu’s plaintive whine. Atsumu relaxed again, showing Sakusa how that tight pucker could unfurl ever so slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Uncapping the lube, Sakusa placed the bottle right at the top of Atsumu’s crack and squeezed. Cool gel slid down and in, farther than Sakusa could see, but Atsumu’s flinch indicated that it had slipped as far as his hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, when Sakusa set down the lube and pried Atsumu’s cheeks apart gently again, wetness glistened from the top of his crack all the way to the seam of his ballsack. Sakusa traced the line gently with a finger, providing pressure everywhere but Atsumu’s hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi, c’mon,” Atsumu whined, when Sakusa used his thumb to press insistently right below Atsumu’s entrance, refusing to go in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet,” Sakusa said. Atsumu groaned and tried again to jerk his hips back, but Sakusa pulled away too fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate ya,” Atsumu said, burying his face in his elbow and grinding forward again into the bed for some relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if you keep this shit up,” Atsumu snapped, turning to look at Sakusa. His eyes were glassy with tears, cheeks red with arousal and frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There, while Atsumu was watching him, Sakusa slid three fingers into him without warning. Atsumu’s eyes slammed shut, mouth dropping open in a surprised yelp that turned into a drawn-out moan when Sakusa nailed his prostate and kept his fingers there, massaging insistently even after Atsumu’s head dropped back down and his back muscles tensed, fingers clenched in the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa kept his fingers deep, drawing out only halfway before plunging them back inside with a messy sound. He used his other hand to wrap around Atsumu’s hip, angling his pelvis so he couldn’t grind down against the bed at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi I swear to gods I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya if ya don’t get in me right now.” Atsumu’s voice was wrecked, needy and raspy with arousal but muffled by his own hand, which he was biting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, okay, that sounded good now. Sakusa leaned forward towards the nightside stand for a condom, but Atsumu gripped his forearm in his hand with a hesitant expression. “I’m clean,” he blurted, “I got tested after the last guy ‘n I’m clean.” He cleared his throat. “Ya don’t have to, I just - if ya want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m clean too. Are you sure you don’t mind it without a condom?” Going in bare sounded like heaven, but Sakusa didn’t want it if Atsumu didn’t, no matter how much better it would have felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s thumb brushed Sakusa’s wrist lightly. “Yeah, I want it. I like it better that way,” he said, keeping solid eye contact even as a blush stained his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa dug his teeth into his lip, overwhelmed with what it meant. He’d be inside Atsumu in the most intimate way, pumping him full, spreading his scent to mark Atsumu inside and out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like this, or do you want to move?” Sakusa asked, settling again onto the backs of Atsumu’s thighs. One of his ass cheeks was still red from Sakusa’s earlier slap, and the lube glistened lewdly on his crack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa brought his hands to those thick cheeks again, and couldn’t help but spread them slowly one more time, biting his lip even harder at the sight of Atsumu’s winking, wet hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like this,” Atsumu panted, still craning his neck around to watch Sakusa watching him. Sakusa was sure his own expression was hungry and dark, because all he wanted was to be inside this man again - this time without a barrier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pinning Atsumu’s pelvis down against the bed so he couldn’t move, Sakusa leaned forward on his knees so his cock could slide between those wet cheeks. He used his hand to direct it, pushing his swollen head right against Atsumu’s stretched entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu tried to screw his hips backwards to sink that hard cock into him, but Sakusa’s firm hand held him still. He’d take it at Sakusa’s pace or not at all; the rush of being in control like this was heady, and Sakusa loved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back and forth, Sakusa dragged the head of his cock along Atsumu’s crack, pressing hard but not hard enough to slip inside. He waited until Atsumu made a sound of frustration, and forced himself inside with one strong thrust. He didn’t stop until he bottomed out, nearly shaking with how good it felt inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was quivering around him, hole flexing and relaxing with each of his breaths. Unable to help himself, Sakusa put a gentle hand on each cheek and spread them again - this time, though, it was to see exactly where he entered Atsumu, the way he stretched obscenely around Sakusa’s cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was incredible, how something so small could stretch to fit something so large, Sakusa thought. The feeling was indescribable and in the yellow morning light, Sakusa could see everything from the fine hairs on Atsumu’s ass to the drops of lube that squeezed out around his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swallowing thickly, Sakusa pulled all the way out, still spreading those cheeks, and pushed slowly back inside, watching the way his cock disappeared into the man beneath him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu swore, and Sakusa looked back up at the rest of his body. His shoulders were tensed, hands fisted in the bed sheets below him. The muscles in his back formed a deep valley where his spine was, belying his strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa knew Atsumu was strong - he was violent when he needed to be, had killed before, he was practically made for fighting - and here he was, whining and drooling as Sakusa fucked him from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, Atsumu picked his face up from the sheets and turned to look at Sakusa. Their eyes connected, dark on brown, and they shared a heated look before Atsumu flexed his thighs and slammed back into Sakusa, driving a groan from the taller man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck me like ya mean it, Omi. None of that soft shit,” Atsumu taunted, and even went as far as to raise an eyebrow in challenge. Sakusa was hesitant, but didn’t show it. He didn’t want any roughness to be too much for Atsumu - but he’d also promised not to coddle him. He’d just have to be tuned in to Atsumu and ready to stop at any time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just to be a prick, Sakusa didn’t listen at first. He pulled out and pushed back in, slow as he pleased, and kept Atsumu’s hips pinned in place with his hands. Two more like that and Atsumu was shaking, barely. Atsumu brought a hand down underneath him, probably to jack his cock, but Sakusa grabbed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hands on the pillow, Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scoffed, but Sakusa didn’t miss the look in his eyes as he complied. Who would have thought that Miya Atsumu, professional jackass, liked being ordered around in bed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he complied, Sakusa figured he could return the favor and fuck Atsumu like he asked. Carefully, without pulling out, he rearranged their legs so Atsumu’s were on either side of Sakusa instead of the other way around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his legs spread wide like that, Atsumu could finally prop himself up slightly onto his knees, raising his ass in the air for Sakusa to get more leverage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fit together perfectly, Sakusa’s hands coming to hold the front of Atsumu’s hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” Sakusa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu huffed in irritation. “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ re -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa pulled out and slammed back inside, startling a shout out of Atsumu with how hard they came back together. He picked up a punishing pace, not that fast but hard enough that each thrust made a loud smacking noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He settled into a rhythm, trying to ignore the way Atsumu’s bed was thumping into the wall, more interested in the repetitive gasps Atsumu made every time he drove forward. He hoped Atsumu wasn’t stressing his healing ribs too much again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like that, Miya?” Sakusa asked. Atsumu didn’t reply, couldn’t, he was too busy screwing his eyes shut and holding onto the pillow for dear life. If he could have spoken, Sakusa was sure he’d have had something to say about being called his last name in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t, though, not with the way Sakusa lifted his hips even further, tilting them to get the perfect angle that made Atsumu cry out with every thrust as he pushed past his prostate over and over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d worked up a sweat, felt a bead of moisture run down between his pecs and down his abs, getting lost in his pubic hair. Slowing down, he tilted Atsumu into a heavier arch and ground his hips forward, moving in little circles that rubbed his dick right against Atsumu’s prostate.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“OmiOmi, fuck right there, keep - keep -” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu whined, his gasps turning to sobs as his legs tensed under Sakusa’s hands and he bit into his own hand, smothering his cries. Looking closer, Sakusa saw that Atsumu’s eyes were wet and glazed, his mouth open and drooling onto the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was gorgeous. He was the most beautiful thing Sakusa had ever seen, and he felt a rush of pride at being the reason Atsumu looked like this, like he would be happy forever as long as Sakusa was here fucking him, just like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you come from just this?” Sakusa asked. He sounded teasing, but he really wanted to know - some people could, some couldn’t, and Sakusa might just die if Atsumu was one of the former. His tongue tingled with the urge to bite Atsumu, to take that skin in his mouth and suck until he had marks all over his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu nodded, nose scrunched up in pleasure, and swallowed hard. “Yeah, just - just stay - just keep -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded back and ground in harder, pulling slightly out and pushing back in so the flared head of his cock massaged his prostate continuously, never losing contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s moans got higher, until it was just one wavering whine. His knuckles were white, his back tensed completely, thighs beginning to shake with the effort of holding his ass up for Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyebrows pinched in a slight look of frustration. That wouldn’t do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harder,” he ground out around clenched teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby, it’s okay if it doesn’t happen - you’re so good, don’t think this -”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I said harder,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu spat, glaring at Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All right, then. Readjusting his hands on Atsumu’s hips, Sakusa used his own knees to knock Atsumu’s even farther apart. He was truly obscene like this, splayed wide and flat except for his ass, pushed so far up by the beautiful curve of his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa picked up the pace, just as hard as before but even faster - he held Atsumu still and fucked into him, skin slapping so hard the whole apartment complex could probably hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like this, Atsumu was barely doing any work. Sakusa held him in place and fucked him as hard as he could, breath panting harshly amid moans of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t keep it up - this fast, this hard, he was going to come before Atsumu. But before he was about to move one hand to Atsumu’s cock, the man below him cried out, body tensing even further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His whole body locked up, legs squeezing Sakusa’s knees, and he spilled onto the sheets below them. Completely untouched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It lasted so long, Atsumu’s face twisted up, hands spasming around the pillow, as he came and came and came. His hold squeezed Sakusa tighter, only relaxing once he was completely spent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he came, Atsumu’s body lost all of its tension. His back relaxed to rest his chest against the bed, his legs went limp, and even his arms smoothed out. The only thing keeping Atsumu upright at all was Sakusa’s grip on his hips, unrelenting as he kept pounding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes were dazed, half-open, a dopey grin on his face. Atsumu was always hot, but this was probably his best look, Sakusa thought, especially when he looked like this because of something Sakusa was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I keep going? I’m almost there,” Sakusa said, hips slowing slightly in case Atsumu was too sensitive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, keep -” Atsumu whimpered, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and biting hard, “Keep going.” At that he clenched down on Sakusa’s cock, squeezing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuuck yeah, just like that, tighten up for me baby,” Sakusa groaned, the endearment slipping out in his haze of lust. Atsumu was crying for real now, fat tears spilling over his red cheeks - he didn’t look like he was in pain, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only took three more thrusts into Atsumu’s slick heat for Sakusa to come, finally letting go after holding on so tight the whole time. His muscles ached, his throat was raw, and he felt so fucking good when he fell off the cliff, cock jerking sporadically inside his partner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was loosening up again, but that was okay - Sakusa was grinding hard, staying deep as his cock emptied inside Atsumu’s ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed there as long as was comfortable, and he kept Atsumu’s hips in the air while his own cock slowly softened. Atsumu’s hole shrank with him, keeping him inside without the pressure from before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally pulled out, slowly, he kept Atsumu’s hips tipped up so his come couldn’t follow the tip of his cock out of his hole. There was a slight gape, nothing much, just enough for Sakusa to see his own pearly white come inside, where it belonged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out another satisfied groan, then looked up to where Atsumu was watching him with a judgmental expression that was smoothed over with how dopey he still looked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perv,” Atsumu chuckled, “Ya like that, huh? Like knowing some part of ya is still in me? Maybe next time ya can shove a plug inside, keep it in me all day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa choked on his spit, feeling scandalized. Atsumu had said it in a joking tone, but the image was too much to ignore. Sakusa didn’t think it was that perverted...was it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before his eyes, Atsumu tightened his hole again, and a thick drip of come escaped, trailing down his taint and over his balls. Sakusa wanted to swipe it up, shove it back inside, but accidentally ducked down and licked it up before he could think twice. Oops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His own come, still warm, right from someone else’s asshole. What would his mother think? Ew, Sakusa, no. He cringed, that thought more than any other giving him a sense of shame about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Atsumu seemed to mind, just smirked lazily and collapsed the rest of the way onto the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every muscle in Sakusa’s body was aching with exhaustion, but he didn’t want a repeat of yesterday so he quickly shepherded a very wobbly Atsumu into the shower. Atsumu looped his arms around Sakusa and kissed him soundly under the water, playfully nipping at his lips. With Atsumu sagged completely against him, unwilling to stand on his own, Sakusa was starting to wonder if the post-coital bonelessness was going to become a habit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he minded, he realized, when it meant he got to feel Atsumu’s body against his own for that much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was much more thorough in his cleaning this time, taking care to dip his fingers inside his lover to make sure all the lube and come washed down the drain. Atsumu winced when his fingers probed inside, so he made sure to be gentle. When he was done, he dropped a kiss on Atsumu’s forehead that made him smile like sunshine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t make it far before collapsing again, this time on the couch and with clothes on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make coffee,” Atsumu said (whined), without a “please,” like the barbarian he was. Sakusa let out a put-upon sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wasn’t having it. He narrowed his eyes and turned to face Sakusa from where he was sitting in Sakusa’s lap. “My legs are </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>more tired than yers, asshole. Make coffee or lose ass privileges for a week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a bit early to be making threats of withholding sex, and even though Sakusa knew he was probably joking, he didn’t want to take the chance. Privately, he also just...didn’t mind. Like some primal switch had been flipped in his head and now making Atsumu happy made </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>happy - disgusting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dropped a kiss on Atsumu’s shoulder, but Atsumu swerved to catch it with his mouth instead. He pulled back with a satisfied smile that Sakusa had no qualms returning, even if the soft expression felt a little foreign on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to call out for directions on how to work the Moka pot - how the fuck had Atsumu screwed it together so tight? - but eventually it was bubbling happily on the stove and filling the apartment with the smell of fresh (burnt?) coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s phone rang in the other room, and he heard him answer it. Was it rude to listen in? It wasn’t like he could turn his super hearing off, and he didn’t want to cover his ears with his palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, wazzup,” Atsumu drawled into the phone. He sounded like a douchebag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Atsumu. The dogs are good to go. Can your guy still take the one? And you’re taking the other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was news to Sakusa. He knew full well Bokuto and Akaashi would take one, but he hadn’t heard of Atsumu volunteering to take the other. Maybe it had happened during the - the bad week. He cringed, glad to be hidden in the kitchen while guilt momentarily overwhelmed him. He knew they’d resolved it, but inside, it still felt raw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Atsumu’s voice lowered slightly, “Yeah...I’ll take the other one.” Did he suddenly sound unsure because of Sakusa? Because he was listening in, or because he was afraid Sakusa wouldn’t want him to get a dog?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” the voice over the phone said, “Pick him up today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The coffee gurgles faded to airy sputters, so he poured it into a big mug with a cartoon dinosaur on it. Exploring Atsumu’s fridge, he took an educated guess that the chocolate oat milk was for putting in coffee, and did that. While he brought it over to Atsumu, he realized that if he was wrong about the milk he might have to remake the coffee, and hoped really hard that it wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Atsumu sounded more sure this time. “What time?” Looking up at Sakusa with a giddy smile, Atsumu made grabby hands for the coffee, which Sakusa didn’t give to him until he was settled comfortably behind Atsumu again, caging him in with his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever, but not after like...6.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? Got plans for once?” Atsumu cackled, in a total antithesis to the way he was nuzzling under Sakusa’s chin gently like some kind of overgrown dog himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” Sakusa didn’t know who this guy was, or what he looked like, and he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>somehow picture the scowl that accompanied those words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu could, too, based on his laughter. Every movement Atsumu made, Sakusa felt against his chest. His voice rumbled in both of their chests. He liked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, tell Yahaba to wear a condom yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man on the other side made a strange choking sound, then the call cut off. Atsumu frowned and turned to Sakusa. “They always hang up so fast.” He pouted, and Sakusa would have bought it if not for the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re taking in the other dog?” Sakusa asked, because it wasn’t like he could ignore the fact that he heard the whole conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah. Never had a dog before, but I like ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.” Atsumu relaxed imperceptibly against Sakusa’s chest - that had been the right thing to say, then. “And Bokuto’s taking the other, right? Do you know which one you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah! Yeah. I want the badass lookin’ one, Bo can have the smushy one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa huffed. “Bulldogs are cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, Omi, ya don’t gotta be like that - all dogs are great, some just look cooler.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa...wasn’t sure that that was better, but at least Atsumu acknowledged that less attractive dogs weren’t necessarily worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonder what the wonder duo will think of the dog. Figure Bo’s told ‘em?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonder duo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nekoma, wonder duo, whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Sakusa shrugged. “I assume they’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Yeah, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, aren’t there three?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three Nekoma members.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu looked up at his eyebrows, like they had the answers. “Uh, wonder trio then.” He shrugged with a flippant look. Sakusa was privately relieved, in a way, that Atsumu wasn’t more invested in them. Hinata was there, after all. He remembered last week, and his anxieties that Atsumu would feel something other than friendship for his tiny red headed ex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looked like that wouldn’t be a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Atsumu fiddled with the remote and put on an old anime, Sakusa let his eyes slip closed even though it was morning and he’d gotten enough sleep. It was nice. He was warm, and Atsumu was a solid if fidgety weight in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Atsumu finished his coffee he’d probably drag Sakusa outside. Maybe they’d get a scone, or visit Yuki. Maybe they’d go to the pet store, and Atsumu would make Sakusa meet his new dog with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No doubt, whatever they did, Atsumu would babble the whole time and make innuendos about their night. He’d tease and smirk and hold Sakusa’s hand, even if it was under the guise of pulling him down the sidewalk. He’d be exhausting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounded wonderful.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was in kind of a weird place, this week. So if anyone wants to stop by my tumblr (rueshe) to say hi, that would be fun for me. But no pressure. Anyone else in a weird mood lately? I hope you all are taking care of yourselves :)<br/>I hereby give you permission to ask for that extension, eat a meal, take a nap, see your friends, whatever you may need.</p><p> </p><p>RueShe's fun tidbit of the week: if your dog brings you a deer head, mostly intact, and the only way to keep it away from the dogs is to hang it in the tree in your backyard, is that still a red flag thing to do? Like...the antlers would have pierced the trash bag, I don't want it all up in my car, I was hoping it would sorta dry out but now it's just hanging there all half eaten and it just....   :/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Feelings are even harder than rocks, especially when yer boyfriend is as dumb as one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Someone gets adopted. Omi does it again. Atsumu tries not to cry.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was supposed to be a fluffy chapter, but then it accidentally wasn't!<br/>I want to add a content warning for something in this chapter: there's smut at the end, but it's angsty smut and although Atsumu verbally consents, the whole situation shows an unhealthy use of sex to deal with his emotions. He probably should not have verbally consented, arguably, but it was the only thing he felt capable of doing in that situation. So if sex as a form of emotional self-harm is a trigger for you, please skip it! Like last time, I'm putting **** before and after that scene to make it easier to skip :)<br/>Love you guys, stay safe!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t even hard to convince Omi to go to Kyoutani’s with him - just a slight pout, and Omi was running his hand through his hair with a huff and extending a hand down to Atsumu to pull him from the couch.<br/>“Oh - right now?” Atsumu had asked, even though he’d been the one to suggest it.<br/>“When else?” Omi asked, and okay, so that’s how Atsumu found himself fast-walking in his excitement, mouth full of scone, hand gripped tightly in Omi’s, on the way to the vet’s office.<br/>Atsumu stopped short, jerking Omi backwards when he failed to also quit walking.<br/>Omi tilted his head at him - cute. “Do ya think we need to get dog shit first? Or do we get it after? And where would we leave the dog while we’re in there - do we take him in? Is he nice enough to be in public? Oh, fuck, Omi.” Atsumu’s heart was racing for real, his excitement morphing into anxiety.<br/>Were those dumb questions? He didn’t think so. He stuck the second half of his scone in his mouth in one giant bite and tried not to choke on it. Omi looked at him like he’d grown a second head.<br/>“Worst case, I stay outside with the dog and you buy things. Okay? Stop stressing out, you’re stressing me out and I’m not even stressed.” Omi tugged gently on Atsumu’s hand, and Atsumu resumed walking. Omi was right, of course. But what if Atsumu was a bad dog parent? He’d never had a pet - well, actually, he and Osamu had had a guinea pig that went mysteriously missing - Omi squeezed his hand gently in his own.<br/>Atsumu sent him a disturbed, anxious look. Omi, fix it, he tried to say with his wiggly eyebrows and frowny lips. Omi rolled his eyes, but dropped a kiss to Atsumu’s temple all the same.<br/>Atsumu liked this new Omi. The one that kissed him when he asked, and held his hand in public even if it made his shoulders creep up occasionally with nerves at the public affection.<br/>He liked that Omi was still a prick, still sarcastic and sharp and teasing but with a new undercurrent of fondness. It was possible, Atsumu thought, that the fondness had been there for a while and he’d missed it, too blinded by his own casual self loathing.<br/>Either way, he thought, it was nice. Very nice indeed.</p><p>“Bokuto was here first thing and took Maisie home,” Kyoutani said when he opened the door, in lieu of any greeting. His eyes were as shadowed as ever, accentuated by what Atsumu was sure was eyeliner but had never gotten the balls to ask.<br/>“That the ugly one?” Atsumu asked, and instantly brought his hands up to ward off the offending swat Kyoutani aimed at him.<br/>It had been a fake-out, just a joke of a reaction from Kyoutani who wasn’t actually violent at all despite his looks and some of the less savory rumors, but Atsumu didn’t miss the way Omi’s arm twitched as if he’d been prepared to intercept the hit. Interesting.<br/>The idea made a fluttery feeling catch in Atsumu’s heart.<br/>Kyoutani narrowed his eyes, and it made him look meaner. Too bad Atsumu knew he was just a puppy himself, a real softie of a man. “Maisie is a mutt, and she is not ugly. Nice try.”<br/>Atsumu snickered. “Okay, but the other one looks cooler and ya know it.” Omi’s sharp elbow to his side made him cough, and Kyoutani laughed.<br/>He led them to the back where they kept the kennels for dogs that had to stay awhile, usually for surgery recovery. “Maybe, but he’s also gonna need a lot more exercise,” Kyoutani said.<br/>There he was, tucked into a kennel in the corner. He seemed subdued, nothing like the spitting snarling dog Atsumu had met those weeks ago. His eyes followed them around the room, though, assessing. “Full doberman,” Kyoutani said, “And still pretty young. He’s only two-ish.”<br/>Now that Atsumu was getting a closer look, he could see that the dog’s paws still looked comically large, and he had a gangly look about him. Most of his coat was black, with tan markings, only disrupted by the criss-crossing of scars. He looked like a mean dog stereotype, with the cropped ears and tail. Atsumu hoped he could be the home this dog needed.<br/>No; he would be the home this dog needed, no matter what.<br/>“I have him on some anxiety chews,” Kyoutani continued. “The other dogs were stressing him out. I’ll give you a bag of them, you can let me know if you need a refill but I’m hoping he settles down enough that he doesn’t need them.”<br/>Atsumu nodded absentmindedly and crouched down in front of the kennel. The dog regarded him warily, but without hostility. “Hey, baby,” Atsumu said quietly. The dog didn’t react. “What’s his name?” Atsumu asked, not seeing a label on the kennel door. There was no tag on his thick cloth collar, either.<br/>Kyoutani’s voice was dark when he answered, “Doesn’t matter, you’re giving him a new one.”<br/>“What sorts of things should we get at the store?” Omi asked. “We were going to go there after this.”<br/>“Food, toys, a bed, kennel - I’ll write you a list.”<br/>This dog was very different than the first time Atsumu had met him, but Atsumu couldn’t help feeling nervous. He’d googled what to expect when adopting an abused dog, and Kyoutani had sent him a PDF too, but he just - really didn’t want to fuck it up. He wished he could just use telepathy to tell the dog he was a good guy.<br/>“Whaddya think for a name?” Atsumu asked Omi, while Kyoutani opened the kennel and attached a harness and leash to the dog. Omi shrugged, looking surprised that Atsumu had asked.<br/>“He’s yours, don’t you want to name him?” Omi asked.<br/>And yeah, sure, the final decision would be his, but he wanted Omi to feel included. He shrugged, instead of saying that.<br/>Just when he was realizing Omi wasn’t going to speak, Omi said “Atlas?” like a question.<br/>Not bad, but - “Why?”<br/>Omi shrugged. “Always liked naming things after the Greek Gods. And he’s already had a lot on his shoulders.” Omi looked embarrassed. Atsumu was starting to see just how easy it was to embarrass him, now that he was showing his emotions on his sleeve.<br/>Kyoutani led him over then, giving the dog all the time he wanted to go slow and check Atsumu and Omi out with his nose first. His movements were sluggish, though whether that was due to the anxiety chews or Kyoutani’s own magic was hard to tell.<br/>“Atlas it is,” Atsumu said, holding a hand out gently, upturned, for the dog to sniff. He did, without making contact, and when he took a step forward Atsumu felt like he’d passed some kind of test.<br/>They said goodbye to Kyoutani, and Atsumu couldn’t help but get a last dig in about Yahaba - those two had been dancing around each other for ages - but then they were pushing the door of the clinic open and walking, the three of them, out into the warm spring air.<br/>“Wish we had a car,” Atsumu complained, but it was mostly for show. He really did like walking, even if it meant he went through shoes too fast and sometimes his joints ached from all the pavement.<br/>“I’d offer to teleport us back, but I think it might kill me.”<br/>Atsumu peered at the man beside him. Was he joking? Atsumu squinted. He couldn’t tell.<br/>“And I’ve never teleported a dog,” Omi continued, casting a wary glance at Atlas.<br/>Atlas was walking between them, footsteps slightly unsteady, but not alarmingly so. Atsumu had to assume Kyoutani wouldn’t drug a dog beyond reason, so he didn’t worry, but it was still kind of cute the way his large paws stumbled every once in a while. His relaxed state meant that when they got to the pet store, Atlas was calm enough to go inside with them.<br/>He didn’t react much to anything, even when Omi knelt to squeak a duck toy in front of him, and Atsumu wanted to cry when he realized Atlas had probably never seen a dog toy before. Then he chided himself for getting emotional over little things when his literal job made him kill people sometimes and he wasn’t usually bothered by that.<br/>Omi made all of Atlas’s stuff match, much to Atsumu’s amusement. “He’s colorblind, Omi-Omi, he doesn’t give a shit,” Atsumu snarked, when Omi refused to let him buy two different bowls for food and water.<br/>“Do you know that or do you just think that?” Omi snapped back, and neither of them googled it, but they ended up getting bowls that matched anyway. Even though Atsumu was sure that whether Atlas was color blind or not, he didn’t care about whether his bowls matched.<br/>Halfway home, Atlas wobbled so hard he bumped into Atsumu’s leg, then jerked back with a soft snarl as if Atsumu had been the one to kick him. Atsumu was glad they had chosen to get the kennel delivered; carrying it right now would have been a headache.<br/>As they walked, Atlas got less and less steady on his feet. His eyes were closed half the time, when Atsumu bent down concernedly to check, and eventually he just sat on the sidewalk and refused to move forward.<br/>“He’s bein’ weird,” Atsumu snapped into the phone, as soon as the call connected.<br/>“...Weird how?” Kyoutani asked, sounding resigned. The lack of worry in his voice made Atsumu calm down a little bit, too.<br/>“He’s probably just tired,” Omi said quietly to him, then bent down and sat on the sidewalk (Sat!! On the sidewalk!!) in front of Atlas. Extending a hand forward, Omi waited for Atlas to make contact. He did, and Atsumu tried not to feel jealous with the dog nuzzled gently into Omi’s outstretched hand. It was fucking cute and also unfair.<br/>“Floppy walkin’, and he just sat down and won’t move,” Atsumu explained.<br/>“He’s just tired, Atsumu. Between the anxiety tab I gave him and my own magic, he’s probably pretty fuckin’ high right now. Just carry him.”<br/>“Carry him?!” Atsumu squawked. “He won’t bite me?”<br/>“Nah, he should be fine. Just be gentle with him. He’s too out of it to really feel threatened, probably.”<br/>“K thanks bye.” Atsumu hung up. Hah, finally he was the hanger-upper.<br/>Omi, apparently having heard the whole conversation, was already bundling Atlas into his lap and standing in one smooth motion, supporting the dog’s body with his arms while Atlas’s legs dangled freely.<br/>Atlas wasn’t a small dog. He was young, yes, technically still a puppy, but he was already well-grown and the sight of Atsumu’s taciturn boyfriend holding a big floppy dog and walking off down the sidewalk was one part odd and two parts cute.<br/>Shit, “Omi, wait up,” Atsumu whined, realizing he’d been stuck staring at his boyfriend (‘s ass) for a little too long and now they were already turning the corner of the block up ahead.<br/>Omi was smiling when Atsumu reached him - his mouth was hidden by his mask, but his eyes crinkled every so slightly and that was enough to make Atsumu smile back, knocking his shoulder affectionately into the other man’s.</p><p>Atlas went to sleep immediately when they got home. Atsumu was thankful for whatever Kyoutani had done to him, since he knew Atlas would probably have been incredibly stressed in a new place for the first time if not for Kyoutani’s influence.<br/>When Atlas woke up, Atsumu had a feeling he would be the combination of curious and afraid that Kyoutani had warned them about. For now, though, he let himself breathe a sigh of relief when Atlas beelined it for the couch, and after realizing he wouldn’t be punished, curled up in a tight ball in the corner, shut his eyes, and didn’t move for two hours.<br/>Atsumu was too nervous to leave him unsupervised for long just in case he woke up, but Omi assured him he’d hear it if Atlas got off the couch. Together they set up food and water in the kitchen and dumped all the dog toys into a bucket by the couch.<br/>When the kennel arrived, Omi carried it upstairs while Atsumu directed - “Watch the corner, Omi - oh shit, did I forget to tell ya about that stair? - Nah, I think ya can open the door on yer own” - and then set that up in the living room, with the plush dog bed inside.<br/>Atsumu selected the softest dog toy - a long-limbed cow - and put it inside the kennel.<br/>“He’s going to be fine,” Omi said softly, when it became clear that Atsumu had spent too long just gazing into the empty kennel with its lone cow in the corner.<br/>“I know that,” Atsumu grumbled, but there was no heat, because Omi had correctly guessed what he was worrying about and said something to make it better. Perfect bastard.<br/>Not wanting to crowd Atlas whenever he woke up, Omi and Atsumu settled on the floor instead of the couch. Omi shifted to put his arm around Atsumu’s shoulders and pulled him slightly so they were pressed together shoulder to hip.<br/>Atsumu tangled one leg with Omi’s. If he’d learned anything from the two days they’d been together, it was that Omi was surprisingly tactile. He was glad, because Atsumu had always appreciated lots of physical affection, and hopefully soon he’d stop being surprised when Omi reached out first.<br/>Tilting slightly, Atsumu grazed his lips over the sharp edge of Omi’s jaw. There was slight stubble there. Atsumu gave a gentle nibble, and Omi turned his head to catch Atsumu’s mouth with his own.<br/>Atsumu already knew he would never get tired of kissing this man. His lips were soft - Omi used chapstick religiously, who knew - and his teeth were a blunt pressure when he nibbled Atsumu back, biting gently at his lip. Atsumu grinned.<br/>He broke the kiss, and settled with his head tipped onto Omi’s tall shoulder. Behind them, Atlas twitched and jerked in his sleep. One paw shot out to thump the back of Omi’s head, and Atsumu snorted loudly at the confused frown on his face. The paw retreated, still twitching as Atlas dreamed of running through fields or chasing squirrels or whatever dogs dreamed of.<br/>He whimpered quietly in his dream, and Atsumu hoped it wasn’t a nightmare. Maybe it was a happy whimper.<br/>“Wait, what do we do with him when we gotta go to Bokuto’s tomorrow?” Atsumu asked, after a few minutes of sitting quietly and listening to Atlas.<br/>“Hm.” Atsumu turned to see a slight frown on Omi’s face. “We could bring him,” Omi said after a moment, “Maisie is already there and they know each other.”<br/>“What if it stresses him out?”<br/>“Then we take him home and try something else.” Fuck outta here with your logic, Omi.<br/>“Yeah, okay. Figure we should give him another anxiety thing?” Atsumu asked, flopping a hand in the general direction of the package on the kitchen counter.<br/>Omi frowned again, - Atsumu was starting to realize it was his thinking face - so Atsumu lifted a finger and pushed gently in between his angular eyebrows until his frown transformed into a soft smile, like magic.<br/>“If he seems anxious tomorrow then yes, I think so.”<br/>Atlas woke up a short while later, and he was indeed more energetic than before. He was hesitant around both Atsumu and Omi, but he didn’t seem outwardly hostile or even particularly afraid.<br/>They stayed on the living room floor, giving Atlas space, as he followed his nose around the apartment, occasionally burying his muzzle in a pile of laundry (Omi made a disgusted face at the fact that Atsumu had dumped his clean laundry on the floor) or into Atsumu’s closet or under the stove, to lick up some crumbs that Omi wrinkled his delicate nose at.<br/>They spent the rest of the day watching Atlas and making sure not to invade his space, but much of their stress turned out to be for naught. Atlas became comfortable with them faster than either had anticipated, and by the end of the night, Atlas curled up near their feet on the end of the couch while Atsumu held Omi to his chest and they watched another movie.<br/>Omi had only been home briefly over the last couple days, which Atsumu thought was weird, but he was far from complaining. It meant he could spend all the time he wanted cuddling, kissing, and fucking him. The real miracle was that neither of them were tired of the other, especially considering how contentious their relationship had been before they became lovers.<br/>With Omi settled in the cradle of Atsumu’s arms and hips, Atlas’s piercing eyes were the only reason they didn’t fuck on the couch that night.<br/>They did it in the room, instead, and hoped they weren’t loud enough to traumatize their new dog. Omi assured him he’d be able to hear it if Atlas woke up. Atsumu helped them keep quiet by stuffing his fingers in Omi’s mouth the same way he was stuffing his cock in Omi’s ass, and rationalized that the saliva that ran over his fingers and onto the pillow was worth it for the way Omi curled his tongue over his knuckles and bit down when he came.</p><p>Some time in the middle of the night, gentle scratching woke Atsumu. Omi was already up and padding lightly to the bedroom door. When he opened it, Atlas darted into the room quickly.<br/>“He’s shaking,” Omi said, sitting on the floor close to Atlas without touching him. Atlas closed the distance, tucking himself under one of Omi’s arms.<br/>Atsumu was sure Omi would have drifted off sitting there holding Atlas, if Atsumu hadn’t tugged him back to bed. Atlas followed, though, and curled up at the foot of their bed near Atsumu’s feet. That was okay, Atsumu thought, even though Kyoutani said they should make him stay in his kennel. That was okay.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Omi texted Akaashi to make sure it was okay they brought Atlas, and soon enough they were walking across the city again, sun tilting over into noon, hand in hand with Atlas pulling them along gently by his harness. It felt weirdly, surreally domestic.<br/>Atsumu felt a knot of dread in his stomach, and knew it was because everything that was good could never last and he hoped whatever popped this honey bubble wasn’t too painful. He ignored the feeling, and tightened his hold on Omi instead.</p><p>Kuroo opened the door before they knocked, and Atlas immediately ducked behind Omi. What, like Atsumu couldn’t protect him? Ridiculous. And cute. Everything was cute these days, Atsumu noted irritably.<br/>Kuroo greeted them with a crooked smile while Maisie barked in the background, quieting when she made it to the door and saw Atlas, still cowering behind Omi. When he saw her, though, he came out slowly to sniff along her muzzle, then her flank, and his tail began to wag hesitantly. He was quite timid for such a dangerous-looking dog, Atsumu was starting to realize.<br/>It wasn’t Atsumu’s first time seeing Kuroo since that night, but when he made eye contact he still had an uncomfortably vivid flashback of Kuroo pulling Omi off of him, while Atsumu’s face and torso split with pain and he wondered if he would die on those cobblestones. He swallowed, and tried to chill out between the door and the kitchen, where Akaashi, Bokuto, Shouyou, and Kenma were all cooking.<br/>Upon closer examination, Akaashi was cooking. Shouyou was bouncing excitedly next to Bokuto, while Kenma sat on the counter and ate pieces of chopped pepper right from the cutting board, somehow timing each grab so Akaashi couldn’t see it even though Akaashi seemed to sense it, whipping around just a second too late every time with narrowed eyes. Kenma looked smug.<br/>The dogs seemed fine now, if both a little dopey still. They’d given Atlas one little chewy thing just in case. Was it normal to just drug dogs? Atsumu didn’t know, but it looked like they were all doing it for now. This way, at least, they wouldn’t feel as afraid or hostile, probably. Hopefully.<br/>He felt a flash of satisfaction when he saw that Atlas was so comfortable around them already. It must have been their impeccable vibes. That wouldn’t explain why Atlas seemed more comfortable around Omi, though, who had notoriously nasty vibes and an off-putting public persona.<br/>“Want an omelette?” Akaashi asked, when they made it to the kitchen. Bokuto whooped and gathered Omi into a bro hug, while Omi made unimpressed eye contact with Atsumu over Bokuto’s shoulder that made Atsumu cover up his snort with a weird cough noise.<br/>“Hell yeah, thanks Akaashi,” Atsumu answered, when he realized he’d been too amused watching his boyfriend to reply.<br/>“Isn’t it a little late for omelettes?” Omi asked, but started cleaning up the kitchen anyway and requested mushrooms but no peppers in his omelette.<br/>“Never,” Kenma said, not looking up from his game. He took one hand from his game to toss an empty egg carton towards Omi, for the trash, then went back to playing. Omi caught it with a judgmental look.<br/>“Yeah, never!” Shouyou echoed, sticking his face too close to the pan - Bokuto pulled him back by the neck of his shirt.<br/>“We woke up late,” Kuroo explained, but he said it with a leer that made Atsumu feel like he was implying more than he said, Atsumu just couldn’t tell what.<br/>Akaashi smirked as he flipped an omelette. Bokuto turned an alarming shade of red. Kenma reached out and gave Kuroo a fist bump. Even Omi looked a little embarrassed, and Atsumu had no idea what was going on. Neither did Shouyou, probably, but Atsumu heard him let out a delighted laugh nonetheless. These people were so weird. Suna would probably have taken back his assertion that Atsumu was weird if he had been in the kitchen.<br/>The table wasn’t big enough to fit all of them, so they spread out across the couch and floor. Arguably, the whole apartment wasn’t big enough for all of them and that was coming from Atsumu, who generally liked being around people. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for introverts like Kenma and Akaashi, or irritable people like Omi.<br/>The dogs were ignoring them, choosing instead to sit side by side at the window and watch the cars pass by down below. Occasionally, one would let out a soft growl, but neither barked.<br/>Atsumu didn’t know if Maisie and Atlas were so calm because of the drugs or because they knew their new owners were vastly different from their old one. Either way, he was glad to see them at ease.<br/>Oikawa arrived after they’d all eaten and were just lounging around with the dogs and each other. Atsumu was sitting side by side with Omi, their pinkies linked together.<br/>“Hello, everyone,” he greeted, and dragged a chair over.<br/>The only ones Oikawa didn’t know were Kuroo and Kenma, who each waved a little.<br/>“Heyyy, Oikawa! It’s been forever!” Bokuto called, way too loud, and got up to give Oikawa a hug which he - surprisingly - returned.<br/>He was even more receptive to Shouyou, who flying-tackled him and clung on like a limpet for a number of minutes until Oikawa gave in and smiled about it.<br/>Oikawa looked uncomfortable again soon enough, even after he got settled next to Atsumu. Well, uncomfortable for Oikawa meant mean-looking and standoffish, but Atsumu knew it just meant he was nervous and unsure. It helped that Shouyou kept whispering jokes to him and nudging him with a conspiratory elbow.<br/>“This is Sakusa,” Atsumu said once they were all settled, nudging Omi.<br/>Oikawa’s look turned frosty. “Nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much,” he said with an overly-pleasant smile tha Omi didn’t return. Oikawa obviously meant the opposite. Atsumu was already tired of this, and had no plans to let Oikawa treat Omi poorly or vice versa. Not when they were both important to him.<br/>“You too,” Omi replied. His tone was polite, warmer than Oikawa’s, but not particularly friendly either.<br/>“Play nice,” Atsumu growled, pinching both of them. Omi grunted.<br/>“Ow, fuck, Atsumu. Christ,” Oikawa complained, pouting at the blooming red spot on his forearm. “I said it was nice to meet him, what else do you want?!”<br/>Atsumu cut a glare at him, but that didn’t stop Oikawa from hissing, “If you hurt him again, I’ll kill you, and nobody will ever find your body.” From Oikawa’s other side, Shouyou pointed to his eyes and then to Omi’s, obviously in agreement.<br/>It wasn’t particularly creative as far as threats went, but whatever. Instead of the sarcasm or venom Atsumu expected from Omi, the taller man just made direct eye contact with Oikawa and said, lowly, “If I do, you’re more than welcome to do whatever you want to me.” Atsumu had expected him to deny that he’d ever hurt Atsumu again, but he supposed that was basically the same thing.<br/>“No. No, guys, I said play nice,” Atsumu tried, but they ignored him.<br/>Luckily, Omi’s response seemed to satisfy Oikawa, since he just sniffed down his nose at the man and said “Okay,” with a suspicious eye. Then he stuck out his hand for a solid handshake, and Atsumu was lost again. Had they made up? Was that how people got along these days?<br/>“Not that that wasn’t heartwarming and entertaining,” Kuroo drawled, and Atsumu felt himself flush when he realized everyone had been watching the whole exchange, “But can we get business out of the way?”<br/>“Does this mean you’ve come up with an actual plan, then?” Oikawa snarked, but his expression was light. Kenma snorted, but Akaashi shushed him.<br/>“Yes. Skag and their people have been helping us take out the warehouses and ships where they keep the prisoners. Despite how hard it’s been to find the actual head of this, we think it’s actually a fairly small setup. We think,” Kuroo glanced around, “And hope, I guess, that there is only one headquarters. We don’t think they’d need more than that to run it all.”<br/>Atsumu was surprised. He’d been half-expecting to learn that the organization was bigger than they ever thought, and that it had been around for a long time. What Kuroo was saying made it sound like the project might have been in its infancy, just starting out. They were lucky, then.<br/>“There are a couple issues that have prevented us from targeting more than what we have been. First, nobody at the warehouses actually has information about the boss. Everything is done anonymously, and no amount of torture has been able to help. Second, we haven’t had enough people. The bounties on us,” he gestured to Kenma and Shouyou, who gave matching peace signs, “Are high enough to make it hard to find allies, even other fae. Third, we didn’t know how to find the boss.”<br/>Kuroo sat back and rubbed his hands together - it looked more like a stress move than a thoughtful one. The room was quiet, digesting. The air felt heavy. Akaashi leaned closer to him to rub his shoulder, gently. Kuroo gave him a weak smile. He seemed to be the leader here, self-appointed or otherwise. Atsumu thought the role fit him well.<br/>“Oikawa,” Kuroo said. Oikawa hummed. “Atsumu said you have blood magic, yeah?” Oikawa nodded. “Great. Can you track someone’s blood, even if it’s out of their body?”<br/>“I think so. I don’t see why not. We should test it first, though, probably.”<br/>“Good idea,” Kenma murmured, before Kuroo spoke again.<br/>“Okay, we’ll do that. Sakusa, still good to get kidnapped?”<br/>Woah, wait -<br/>Omi nodded, not looking at Atsumu.<br/>“Wait, what?” Atsumu heard his voice crack slightly. “Omi’s the one gettin’ kidnapped?” Looking around at everyone’s hesitant faces, it became clear that most everyone had known. Oikawa looked surprised as well, and sent a nasty glare to Omi, who didn’t see it. <br/>“Yeah, didn’t he tell you?” Shouyou piped up. No, he fucking hadn’t. Why hadn’t he?<br/>“Why didn't cha tell me?” he asked quieter, turning to Omi, hoping there was some good reason he hadn’t told. If there was a good reason, he’d be cool about it, but Omi still didn’t look at him, keeping his gaze instead at his own hands in his lap.<br/>“I didn’t want you to worry, and I didn’t want you to try to talk me out of it.” Atsumu was glad he didn’t spout some bullshit like I didn’t think you’d care but he was still pissed.<br/>“We’re talkin’ about this later,” he hissed at Omi, whose shoulders curved inwards slightly in shame. Fuck that, he didn’t get to act all wounded after hiding important shit from Atsumu. What happened to the honesty and communication Omi had been so sincere about just a few days ago?<br/>Just to be petty, Atsumu pulled his hand away from where it had been linked by the pinky with Omi’s. Bastard had lost softness privileges for the night.<br/>Atsumu felt a pressure on his leg, and looked over to see Oikawa’s foot worming its way under his leg. He knew it was a gesture of comfort, and he didn’t feel even a little bad about shifting slightly closer to his best friend. His best friend who was probably fighting every instinct to not go off on Omi right now. Atsumu appreciated his restraint.<br/>“Uh, okay,” Kuroo started again, hesitantly this time, like he didn’t know if it was okay to resume talking. Atsumu waved a hand at him to continue.<br/>“Sakusa will get kidnapped. He’ll go in to rescue some fae, and ‘accidentally’ get in over his head, basically, and let them catch him. They’ll realize he’s fae, take his blood, and Oikawa will track it to their headquarters.”<br/>Atsumu shifted uncomfortably. As confident as Kuroo sounded, this plan didn’t sound even close to fool-proof.<br/>“Unfortunately, this plan relies on two assumptions,” Kuroo said. Aaand, there we go. “First, that they’ll take his blood and not just kill him. Second, that the blood goes to their headquarters and not somewhere else. We won’t be able to check on Sakusa. This is incredibly dangerous, and Sakusa will be taking all the risk.” Kuroo looked at Omi when he said it, but Omi didn’t look fazed.<br/>Atsumu, on the other hand, was beginning to freak out inside. He kept his face neutral but he could feel his heart speeding up, his palms beginning to sweat, and he was glad he wasn’t holding hands with Omi anymore or he’d feel it for sure.<br/>This was why he didn’t like getting close to people. After Shouyou’s “death,” this was why he’d sworn off intimacy - it was too dangerous. The risks, in his line of work, were too great. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.<br/>And despite how hard he’d tried to be standoffish and apathetic, he’d tripped and fallen right into his feelings for Omi. How much would it take for him to regret it?<br/>Omi had been right - Atsumu definitely would have tried to talk him out of this but that was because it was a really risky plan and he didn’t want him to fucking die. Abruptly, Atsumu went from being worried to being pissed. He missed some of what Kuroo was saying because he had to focus on not letting his hand reach out and smack Omi like it wanted to.<br/>Deep breaths, Atsumu. He ignored Oikawa’s questioning look. Omi’s hand brushed Atsumu’s leg, and he ignored that too.<br/>“The good thing, though, is that Sakusa shouldn’t have to be there for long. We’ll rely on him to keep himself alive, and we’ll break him out as soon as the blood is going somewhere,” Kuroo was saying, when Atsumu tuned back in.<br/>Atsumu felt vaguely light-headed for the rest of the meeting. He paid just enough attention to understand, but beneath this calm exterior he felt like he was losing it. As soon as it was over, Atsumu was on his feet and moving towards the door. He waved off a concerned look from Akaashi. He said goodbye to everyone, he thanked Kuroo, he gave Bokuto a pat on the back, and he smiled even though his face felt cold.<br/>Shouyou murmured to him, when he hugged him goodbye, “Want me to kill him? I could, you know,” which made Atsumu scoff a laugh despite himself.<br/>Oikawa followed him towards the door, but Omi stayed behind to talk to the others. Quickly, but not so quickly that it looked like he was running away, Atsumu collected Atlas and his leash.<br/>“Hey,” Oikawa said, slipping on his own shoes.<br/>“I’m good,” Atsumu grunted, tying his laces. He wasn’t bad, he’d been worse before. He wasn’t trying to be dramatic, but suddenly he didn’t know how to talk to anyone without being weird and he didn’t know how normal people acted.<br/>He just knew he needed to leave, to be alone, to be anywhere but here, with these people, inside this skin that suddenly felt taped to his body underneath. He wasn’t even freaking out, at least it didn’t feel like it, he just felt - he didn’t know how he felt, but he wanted to leave. So he did.<br/>Oikawa followed him, which wasn’t surprising. Omi would probably be less than a minute behind, too. “Hey, Atsumu, slow down a sec,” Oikawa called from behind him. Atsumu could hear his fast footsteps on the sidewalk.<br/>He stopped. “I’m good, Oikawa, seriously, I just - I feel real weird and I need to go home but I’ll call you later or tomorrow or somethin’.”<br/>Oikawa looked like he was about to protest, eyes bright with sympathy, then changed his mind. “Okay, Atsumu. Okay. But let me know if I can help?”<br/>Relieved, Atsumu nodded. He accepted a soft fist bump, and kept running. Walking. He was walking, but it felt like running, and for all intents and purposes, it was. Atlas was a solid presence at his side, happy to jog along. At least dogs didn’t require him talking.</p><p>Omi was outside his door when he got back, looking stiff. Atsumu’s chest was rising and falling quickly, and the small of his back had a hint of sweat. He was lucky it wasn’t a hot day, or it would have been worse.<br/>“I need to be alone right now,” Atsumu said, moving around Omi to unlock his door. He was glad Omi hadn’t just teleported inside, which he was more than capable of doing.<br/>“Wait, we should talk about this first,” Omi said. Atsumu couldn’t tell if he was imagining the pleading note in his voice.<br/>Atsumu scoffed. “Rich, Omi.” Omi flinched slightly at Atsumu’s tone. “Yeah,” Atsumu continued, “We fuckin’ should’ve, sometime between yer speech about communication and now, but it’s too fuckin’ late.”<br/>Omi reached out, a little too fast, and Atsumu jerked back. He couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose or if it was fear of impending pain, but the resulting expression on Omi’s face was the same. Sad, and guilty, but determined.<br/>“I have to -” Omi started, but Atsumu spoke over him.<br/>“Listen, I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it,” he snarled. He finally got the door open, and herded Atlas inside first. “I can’t look at ya right now without wantin’ to yell or hit somethin’ or both, so fuck off. I told you I wanna be alone, so go home. I’ll talk to ya when I can look at ya without it hurtin’.” Atsumu tried to ignore the way his throat closed sharply at the end.<br/>With that, Atsumu tried to close the door behind him. Omi stuck his foot in it, though, and Atsumu glared at him with itchy eyes. Before he could open his mouth to tell him off, Omi blurted, “Wait - is this like last time, when you told me to leave but really wanted me to stay?”<br/>Atsumu’s eyes burned harder. He didn’t - he couldn’t - “I dunno. I want to be alone, but I don’t want ya to leave, is that weird?” He couldn’t look at Omi, or he was afraid he’d cry. He didn’t want to, not yet, not now.<br/>Omi looked torn, like he didn’t know if he should force his way through the door or listen to Atsumu and leave. Atsumu loved him for thinking twice about it, but hated how complicated it made him feel. “Go, Omi. But if I want ya to come back, will you? Is that okay?”<br/>Omi deflated. He nodded. He reached out slowly to brush the pad of his thumb over Atsumu’s cheek, and leaned forward to drop a quick kiss against Atsumu’s forehead. He couldn’t tell if he wanted it, but then Omi was gone between one breath and the next, and Atsumu finally closed the door.<br/>First, Atsumu paced. His movements were quick and agitated. He was numb, but he had too much energy, like if he could just find some way to funnel it elsewhere he’d somehow overcome the way his skin felt rubbery and his throat didn’t want to let him speak. He didn’t even know what emotions he was feeling, but he didn’t like them.<br/>He just wanted them to stop. He wanted to stop feeling, but the way he used to accomplish that was with rough random hookups - and that would have felt like a betrayal to Omi, no matter the tension they had at the moment. His other option used to be fighting, at Iwaizumi’s gym.<br/>Atsumu noticed that Atlas was watching him with barely restrained anxiety and wide eyes, so he felt like an asshole. He heaved a big breath, ignored the way it made his chest ache, and put Omi out of his mind for the moment. Or at least, he tried. If the anxiety and hurt hovered around the back of his head like a shadow, he just ignored it.<br/>He sat on the floor by the couch, trying to make sure he didn’t come at Atlas from above, something he’d read about when he googled how to interact with abused dogs. He didn’t move towards him, just sat there and spoke in a soothing voice that did nothing to bely his inner turmoil - or at least, he hoped.<br/>“Hey, bud, I’m not gonna hurt ya. I wouldn’t. I just - I’m just gonna stuff my emotions real deep, and deal with them later. Sound good?”<br/>He pretended Atlas understood him, and for a moment it almost seemed like he could, because he crept forward hesitantly to butt his forehead against Atsumu’s shoulder. A hint of warmth crept through the rubbery numbness of Atsumu’s skin.<br/>Slowly, so he knew Atlas could see him, he moved a hand up to card through the short hair on Atlas’s neck, then his head behind his ear, then down his chest to rub where the harness had been resting.<br/>What Atsumu really wanted was to go to the gym and hit Iwaizumi until the feeling left his limbs for a different reason. He figured he was healed enough, but Iwaizumi had told him not to bother coming around until his bruising was gone. Which was stupid, but whatever.<br/>Atlas shifted closer, and Atsumu scratched gently along his back.<br/>Iwaizumi would probably let him in if he showed up anyway, pissed off and ready to fight, but...suddenly, it sounded less appealing. Atsumu heaved another big breath, involuntarily this time. He felt tension leave his muscles, tension he hadn’t even noticed was there.<br/>Atlas’s cold nose on Atsumu’s cheek startled him. For only knowing him a couple days, this dog sure was adjusting fast. It made Atsumu grin a little.<br/>Atlas looked smug, as smug as his pointy face could, and Atsumu huffed but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he brought up his other one to stroke Atlas’s other shoulder. He wanted to hug him, but he’d read somewhere that that made dogs feel cornered and he didn’t want to do that to Atlas, especially after his history.<br/>So he settled for tipping his head forward gently, resting it against Atlas’s chest, and timing his breathing with the dog’s. It helped more than he’d expected, and after a half an hour, he was no longer itching to fight someone, or to yell, or find someone to choke him during sex.<br/>Now, he wanted to take a bath and cry. He was still mad, and hurt, and stressed. The only difference was that he wasn’t vibrating with barely-contained rage coiled in his tight fists. Now, he was just...tired, more tired than he had a right to be in the middle of the afternoon.<br/>That didn’t stop him from padding to his room, shucking off his clothes, and curling up under the comforter. He left the door open for Atlas, should he decide to join, and fell asleep before any tears had the chance to fall.<br/>He woke up some time that night, to find that Atlas had indeed slipped into the room and curled up near his feet far enough that they weren’t touching but close enough that Atsumu could feel his heat seeping through the blanket.<br/>He’d heard his phone go off a couple times, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, but he hadn’t looked at it. He didn’t want to, fairly certain he’d see a checkup text from Oikawa and probably some calls or texts from Omi. And probably some memes from his brother and Suna.<br/>Whatever they were, they could wait until tomorrow. His stomach growled, and he punched it lightly to show it who was boss. As an extra precautionary measure, he turned his phone off completely.<br/>Then, ignoring his hunger, he curled right back up and went to sleep.</p><p>He woke up with his heart pounding, sweat sticking in between the fingers of his clenched hands. His jaw was tight, and he heard it pop when he opened it wide to ease the stiffness. In his dream, a man with Omi’s eyes had been burying him alive, bit by bit, as Atsumu shrieked and begged inside his silent, paralyzed body.<br/>Atlas was gone from the bed, but Atsumu could hear him snoring somewhere beside the bed.<br/>He reached over to check the time on his phone, only to remember he’d turned it off. Then he remembered why he’d turned it off. His diaphragm clenched, and he rubbed a thumb in harshly to make it chill out.<br/>Decisions, decisions. He always got stupid at night, like some kind of nocturnal off-switch on his impulse control. Because he remembered going to bed mad, resolving to deal with Omi later. He remembered telling Omi to leave, and being glad when he’d done it.<br/>But he didn’t quite get why Omi needed to still be gone. He could come back now, right? Talk about it like he wanted? Atsumu was sure it was a bad idea, he just did not know why.<br/>Other than it being rude to call people at - he tried to check his phone again, but it was still off - whatever the fuck time of night it was, he couldn’t think of an actual reason why he shouldn’t give Omi a call right now. It hadn’t even been twelve hours, and he hated himself a little bit for caving so fast.<br/>He held down the power button.<br/>He was still mad, but less. Should he wait for morning, when he might be good and mad again? Was his tired mind just giving him a break from his own emotions? Either way, he felt plenty cooled down. So, Omi had kept something from him. It probably explained why he’d been so affectionate over the last couple days, anticipating their time apart.<br/>That was entirely too much thinking. His eyes squinted fuzzily at the bright screen. There were texts and calls, like he’d suspected, but he ignored them in favor of jabbing his thumb into Omi’s face.<br/>It rang, but Atsumu didn’t put it up to his ear or put it on speakerphone again. It was like he was frozen again, but this time it was his own fault. It rang again, and he debated ending the call and turning his phone back off and never admitting he’d tried at all.<br/>It clicked. Silence, then Omi’s voice mumbled something - from its position in Atsumu’s lap, the phone speaker was too quiet for him to even hear it. He almost laughed.<br/>“Huh?” Atsumu asked when he finally brought it to his ear like the technologically literate young adult he knew himself to be.<br/>He heard Omi sigh in relief on the other side. “Atsumu?” he asked, “Are you all right?”<br/>Atsumu looked around himself at the dark room, the faint light coming through the window, the slightly-open closet door that gave him the creeps. “Uh, yeah?”<br/>“...Good,” Omi said, sounding confused. “It’s three in the morning.”<br/>Oh, that was - that was late, or early, or something, but definitely warranted Omi’s concern and hence the question. Atsumu was kind of surprised Omi answered at all, <br/>“No, yeah, I’m good,” Atsumu croaked.<br/>“I’m glad.” A pause, then they spoke at once, “Did you -”<br/>“Wanna come over?” Atsumu reminded himself to breathe. The sweat had cooled in his palms, and he lay back down so he could pull the covers farther up his body again. He tried to shake the feeling of dream-Omi hurting him again. He let his eyes close, and it eased the tired sting.<br/>Another pause, this time longer. “I’m not sure we should have sex until we’ve talked,” Omi said, but he sounded reluctant which was equally funny and...no, just funny, because this wasn’t actually supposed to be a booty call.<br/>Atsumu’s eyes flew open. “That’s not - to talk, Omi, come over to talk. Gods, who do ya think I am?” He chose not to mention that a 3am booty call wasn’t necessarily unrealistic, coming from him.<br/>Omi coughed. “Oh. Yeah. Yes, I can -”<br/>But then he was just there, wearing a loose t-shirt and sweats, in Atsumu’s room, without a noise at all. Atsumu shrieked, but importantly, didn’t chuck his phone this time. He did grip his covers tightly, though.<br/>Atlas was another story. He’d been sleeping peacefully, but the instant Omi showed up he was up, too, snarling. His fur was raised along his spine. Like this, he looked terrifying. His teeth practically glowed in the dark, and the rumbling that came from his chest sounded far too deep to come from such an otherwise sweet dog.<br/>“Atlas, hey, it’s okay bud,” Atsumu said. He shot a glare at Omi, who winced but stayed frozen. Atsumu slipped out of bed and slowly approached. The fact that Atlas knew Omi was probably the only reason he hadn’t become violent, especially considering what his old owner had used him for.<br/>Atlas quieted, but his fur stayed up, and he kept his fangs showing. Atsumu inched in between him and Omi, murmuring gently to him. He ignored the fact that he was only in tight boxer-briefs, and banked on the fact that Atlas didn’t want to hurt him.<br/>Behind him, Omi dropped to the floor. Once he was sitting on the floor, Atlas calmed down further. Atsumu saw his eyes flick to him, then to Omi, then to Atsumu again. Finally, Atlas relaxed. He moved away, to the corner, and sat there, watching.<br/>Atsumu appreciated the backup, honestly. It was obvious Atlas was on his side, which he decided he would try not to gloat about.<br/>Atsumu climbed back on his bed, ignoring Omi for the moment, and wrapped himself in his blanket. Safe and warm, Omi couldn’t hurt him, he tried to tell himself.<br/>“Ya shoulda told me,” he said, finally, eyes narrowed slightly at Omi from inside his blanket.<br/>Omi turned to face him, but stayed on the floor. Where he belongs, chanted a voice in Atsumu’s head.<br/>“I know.”<br/>Atsumu waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. “What, no explanation, no argument?” he spat, getting angry now, despite the fact that he’d decided to try to remain removed and unfeeling for this.<br/>Omi just looked tired - it was a far cry from the anxiety he’d had the first time they’d had a talk like this. “No. I know I should have told you, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Even if I didn’t tell you immediately, I should have told you before we went to meet with everyone.”<br/>“Then why didn’t ya?” Omi was making it hard to argue with him, but Atsumu wasn’t about to forget that Omi was the one in the wrong here.<br/>Omi tucked his legs up high, knees beneath his chin, arms around his legs. “I don’t know.”<br/>“Yer gonna have to give me more’n that, Omi,” Atsumu sneered.<br/>“I just wanted to be happy for a couple days before I ruined it, okay?” Omi was avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t want this hanging over us. Either of us. And I knew it would bother you, so I rationalized that I was somehow doing it for you, too. But it was just for me, so you wouldn’t look at me like you are right now. That’s why.”<br/>Well, fuck. Atsumu wanted to cry. He didn’t, just squeezed his hands into fists and tried not to shake from the tension in his jaw. Then he released it, body slumping into the covers and eyes slipping closed. “Ya said ya were gonna be honest,” Atsumu said, knowing his voice sounded too soft in the dark room.<br/>He inhaled, and it was shaky. “Ya said - ya made me think ya were really gonna change.” Atsumu sniffled, trying to keep his voice from breaking. He was tired now, more tired than he’d been before, and his eyes ached but no tears would form.<br/>“I know,” Omi said again, almost too quiet for Atsumu to hear. “I meant it,” he continued, finally looking up at Atsumu. This time, Omi’s eyes were the ones that glistened. “This doesn’t - this is different. I didn’t lie, I just...didn’t tell you something. I really thought it was better to wait. But you shouldn’t have had to find out that way. Either way, it won’t happen again.”<br/>“What the fuck kinda idiot would I hafta to be to believe that a second time, Omi?” This time Atsumu’s voice did crack, but still his eyes were dry. “It’s not even about the plan, which I woulda hated but understood. It’s about ya tellin’ me yer gonna be different and then turnin’ around to pull the same exact shit. Ya get that, right? Ya get why I’m mad?”<br/>Atsumu didn’t think he’d seen Omi as pale as he was now, sitting there maskless in his pajamas with only the dim street lamp outside the window for light. His eyebrows were drawn, his lips pinched tight. He was achingly, ethereally, beautiful. And Atsumu didn’t know what to do but say goodbye to him.<br/>No. Was he overreacting? Was he asking too much? In the scheme of things, this wasn’t that bad. It could be worse - so what if Omi didn’t tell him everything? He said it himself, he wanted to give them a few happy days before everything got rough again. He didn’t want to care about what happened, wanted to be forgiving and easygoing and everything he didn’t feel right now.<br/>Beyond that, Atsumu was practically asking for perfection. If anyone deserved perfection in a partner, it wasn’t him. He should just be glad Omi was willing to give him anything at all. What if Atsumu’s demands pushed Omi away? Pushed him too far to come back from?<br/>He wanted to be on Omi’s side, not his. He didn’t want to care, so - maybe he could just pretend he didn’t.<br/>Atsumu made up his mind. It was easier than he’d expected, sacrificing a little piece of his own desires for the sake of their relationship.<br/>Omi’s face was hidden in his knees, but he answered the question. “Yes, I understand why you’re mad. And if I could take it back, I would.”<br/>Atsumu was glad Omi wasn’t looking while he arranged his face into something other than what he felt. So what if he’d never be able to fully trust Omi? He couldn’t trust anyone, not blindly, not completely. This was normal. This was good, even. Atsumu shouldn’t have gotten so mad in the first place, over something so small. Yeah, that was it. And a little distance can be good in a relationship - Atsumu had been told before that he got too intense too fast, maybe that was what this was.<br/>Atsumu slid off the bed, and only then did Omi pick his face up from his knees. His eyes were a little red, but he didn’t seem to be crying.<br/>“You’d take it back if you could?” He murmured, reaching out with one dry hand to cup Omi’s knee. Omi nodded, and Atsumu tried to believe him. “And - and you’ll really try? To communicate better? I can’t be with ya if ya keep doin’ this shit, Omi.” Omi’s eyes brightened, and Atsumu could see the flicker of hope he felt.<br/>“Yeah. Yes. I swear.” He looked like he meant it, and he probably did. Atsumu tried not to let the sudden memory of the scorpion and the frog story dampen his hesitant smile.<br/>“Okay.”<br/>“Really?” Omi asked. Did Omi realize how close Atsumu had been to ending it before talking himself out of it? Did his face show his inner conflict? The way half of him was hurt and the other half cursed himself for even caring?<br/>“Thin ice, Omi, but yeah. I know ya didn’t mean to hurt me. That’s what matters.”<br/>“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Omi choked out, and Atsumu saw a tear finally gather on his delicate eyelashes. He wiped it with a thumb before it could fall.<br/>“It’s okay,” he murmured, scooting forward until he could pull Omi’s face towards his own. “It’s okay, I forgive you,” he said against Omi’s lips, coaxing movement out of the other man until they were kissing for real, the slick sounds of their mouths the only thing Atsumu could hear.<br/>Omi was hesitant in the kiss, letting Atsumu take the lead. Parting Omi’s lips with his own, Atsumu slid his tongue inside and swallowed Omi’s quiet moan. Pushing farther, he tasted behind Omi’s upper teeth, slowly felt his way along the ridges of the other man’s hard palate, and drank in the feeling of forgiveness he was trying to convey.<br/>Omi’s legs unfolded, losing their tension, and Atsumu slid into his lap. Omi was warm and solid underneath Atsumu. His hands were light when they settled on Atsumu’s hips. Atsumu didn’t want light.<br/>He bit down harshly on Omi’s lip, and enjoyed the way it made him hiss his inhale. Atsumu moved one hand to the back of Omi’s neck, pulling him harder into the kiss with tense fingers in his hair. His other hand moved up under the hem of Omi’s shirt to tickle his abs, press against his chest, then pull suggestively at his waistband.<br/>“Are you sure you want this right now?” Omi broke the kiss to ask. Instead of letting him make eye contact, Atsumu tilted Omi’s head with his hand and kissed along his jaw. He sucked a bruise so hard below his ear that Omi cursed quietly.<br/>“Yeah, I always want ya, Omi,” Atsumu said honestly, even if it didn’t answer the question Omi was really asking.<br/>****<br/>At that, Omi lost his reservations, for better or for worse. He moved his own hand from Atsumu’s hip to the front of his boxers, cupping Atsumu’s hardening cock from the outside before dipping inside to grasp his length in his hand.<br/>It was incredible, Atsumu thought, that he could feel so torn up on the inside and still respond so easily to sexual stimulation. He gasped, letting his eyes flutter closed at the feeling. Omi was a fast learner, had picked up quickly the way Atsumu liked to be touched - loosely, at first, almost gentle. A thumb swiped across his sensitive head, and Atsumu jerked his hips into the feeling, exhaling at the feeling of his cock slipping through the space between Omi’s thumb joint and his curled fist.<br/>“More,” Atsumu panted, “I want more, want ya to fuck me.” Omi’s hand hesitated, so Atsumu said, “Yes, I’m sure Omi,” and it didn’t feel like a lie.<br/>Part of him wanted to curl up, to cry, to let Omi hold him through his shuddering breaths and running nose. He wanted to sit in the bath, fall asleep in the bath, but he couldn’t. This was what he could do, so he did. This was what he wanted, this was what he could have without feeling like a rotten liar of a man. If he cried, Omi would know. He’d know Atsumu had lied when he said he was fine, that all was forgiven, that it hadn’t hurt.<br/>He’d know Atsumu took everything too seriously and then lied about it, the hypocrite, that he couldn’t help the way his heart stopped beating at the slightest thing. This was better, the way Omi eased him onto the bed and pulled his boxers off, followed by Omi’s clothes, until they were naked and pressed together.<br/>“Like this,” Atsumu said, turning over onto his stomach so Omi couldn’t see his face. He was afraid he’d lose control, show Omi some of the rotten emotions feeding at his core.<br/>He felt kisses trail down his spine, and Omi’s hands were reverent when they touched him. One slick finger turned into two, then three, and Atsumu lost himself to the feeling. It wasn’t the pain of rough sex he’d been craving, but it overwhelmed him just the same. Waves of pleasure washed over him, drowned out his thoughts, tightened his lungs against the air in his bedroom.<br/>When Omi finally slipped inside, and they both moaned at the feeling, Atsumu had almost forgotten that he was upset at all.<br/>Omi was gentle. He was adoring in his movements. His hands smoothed over Atsumu’s body, gripping his hips and smoothing the ache with wide circles of his thumbs. It felt like worship. It felt like making love.<br/>Atsumu didn’t deserve it. Whatever love Omi was trying to bathe Atsumu’s shriveled heart in, he didn’t want it. Atsumu felt the prick of tears - finally, blessedly, but no longer welcome - and stuffed a fist in his mouth so he wouldn’t make any noises. So he wouldn’t sob.<br/>“Fuck, Atsumu, you feel so good,” Omi said behind him, drawing back and sliding back in with a long, slow thrust. Atsumu let out a noise that he hoped sounded like a moan and not a whimper.<br/>Omi pulled back again, then thrust back in, more firmly than before. He was hot and hard inside Atsumu, and he felt huge, and Atsumu was losing control.<br/>He did it again, and again, never building a rhythm, keeping his strokes slow and so deep that Atsumu could feel everything - the way the head of Omi’s cock scraped his prostate and teased at his rim on every outstroke, the way his fingers curled tight over Atsumu’s hips, the way his lips pressed gently to the knobs in Atsumu’s spine.<br/>He couldn’t cover his ears to stop from hearing the whispered praises Omi crooned, quiet and sincere.<br/>Atsumu’s breath was coming faster, hovering somewhere between panic and pleasure. He couldn’t even tell if he was feeling good or bad, just a cacophony of emotions and sensations that rose above his head until he felt like he was drowning in them. He could feel sweat beading in the groove of his clavicle, between his pecs, along his spine. He didn’t know how he was still hard, but he was - he’d always been easy like that, and now he was grateful for it.<br/>“You’re perfect,” Omi whispered into Atsumu’s skin, “I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.” His kisses felt like fire on Atsumu’s shoulders. “You’re gorgeous.” It was everything Atsumu wanted and didn’t feel like he could have. It hurt. And it felt like ecstasy. He was so twisted up inside, he couldn’t even sort out what he was feeling. Was he even in his body any more?<br/>Atsumu came like that, muffling his soundless sobs with a pillow and shaking from pleasure when Omi reached around to jack him off. It didn’t take more than a few strokes, and then Omi was following him, spilling into the condom with a choked sigh and a final kiss to the junction of Atsumu’s shoulder and neck.<br/>****<br/>Only when Omi went to the bathroom to throw away the condom, and Atsumu heard the shower start, did he let himself sob. Just once, one heave to relieve the tension, then he was gripping his own throat and wiping his wet eyes on the pillow and breathing deep and slow.<br/>“...Atsumu?” Oh gods, oh fuck. “What are you…?” Atsumu felt the bed dip where Omi had crawled onto it. He felt a hand smooth up his bare back, to tangle in his hair.<br/>Atsumu wanted to hide, but it was too late. He turned towards Omi, hoping his face wasn’t as red and wet as he thought. This was embarrassing, he hoped Omi couldn’t tell he’d been crying, and he shivered when his skin felt suddenly too cold.<br/>Omi’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, and Atsumu could practically see the gears working in his head. He wouldn’t let Omi blame himself for this.<br/>“No, of course not,” Atsumu said. That had been far too gentle and slow for it to have hurt. His next breath was shakier than he wanted it to be. Omi noticed, and used his strong arms to pull Atsumu into his chest, so he could feel Omi’s warm skin all down his back and legs. It soothed the cold that had invaded his sensitive skin. The shower was still running in the bathroom. Atsumu’s shuddering inhales were probably even more obvious now, he thought, and more tears leaked out. He scrubbed them away.<br/>“You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?” Omi murmured against his neck.<br/>“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ sure.” It sounded whiny, not the biting comeback Atsumu had gone for.<br/>“What’s wrong, then?” How do I fix it, Omi was really asking.<br/>Atsumu didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. Sorry I used you to hurt myself? Sorry you lying to me hurt my feelings more than I let on? None of the options made him sound less unhinged than he was already feeling. So instead he gritted his teeth and covered his eyes with his palms, and curled in on himself. Maybe if he curled up enough he’d disappear entirely.<br/>“What do you need?” Omi asked instead, haltingly, like he wasn’t sure he should be talking at all.<br/>“I dunno.” Atsumu’s voice caught again. He just wanted to stop, wanted his body to stop reacting without his consent, wanted to stop feeling what he was feeling, wanted to take back everything and go back to two days ago when he felt on top of the world. Before Omi reminded Atsumu of the distance between Atsumu and every person he would ever love.<br/>“Just - hold me?” Atsumu croaked. “Like this?”<br/>“Yeah,” Omi said, tightening his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “Yeah, I can do that.” He pressed a light kiss to the back of Atsumu’s neck, and tucked his knees up under Atsumu’s.<br/>Gods, he was lucky Omi was kinder than he looked. Crying after sex was a new low even for Atsumu, and he didn’t know how he’d be able to look the man in the eye again after this. But Omi just held him, murmuring things like, “You’re okay, I’ve got you,” and kept him safe inside the circle of his arms. He got up at some point to turn the shower off, but was back before Atsumu registered the loss.<br/>Eventually, Atsumu’s muscles stopped twitching. His jaw unclenched, his eyes dried into achy sockets, and his breath slowed into an easy rhythm. The shame set in then, worse than before. It was bad enough to be feeling the way he was feeling, he didn’t have to go and make it Omi’s problem too.<br/>Disgusted with himself, he tried to push out of Omi’s arms. Peeking over his shoulder, he saw a confused look on Omi’s face. “I’m good now,” Atsumu said, and immediately turned away again. “I’m good.”<br/>“...It’s okay if you’re not.”<br/>Atsumu laughed, but it wasn’t a happy one. “I mean it,” Omi said, and Atsumu could hear the frown in his voice. Omi reached out again, tracing one big hand over the bumps in Atsumu’s spine. “You don’t have to be fine, just let me be here. I can help.”<br/>Atsumu crumbled at that. He didn’t look at Omi still, he couldn’t, but he lay back down and flipped around to wrap his own arms back around Omi and bury his head in Omi’s shoulder.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sooooo, what did you think?<br/>Whom do you find yourself having sympathy for? Can you see both sides? Do you have a favorite character?</p><p>I got my first dose of le covid vaccine, and my arm hurts really bad. Hope you're all doing well &lt;3</p><p>Also, I've been listening to a lot of Lausse the Cat. Bangers.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The rocks didn't have much to say this time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A garden gets some visitors. Atsumu doesn't lie, a little. Omi takes a ride. A frisbee and two goodbyes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, lovely readers! Another chapter, here you go :) I hope you enjoy it.<br/>More **** to indicate the beginning and end of a smut scene, so you can skip it if you'd like. (Omi bottoms so if that bothers you, don't read it - no need to comment about it &lt;3) (unless u want to compliment bottOmi, in which case, def do comment :P)<br/>This one has a bit of a cliffy, but I don't think it's bad? idk tho, it's my writing, so it's hard for me to know what's even going on</p><p>Before you read, I just want to say THANK YOU to some people<br/>1. ems, my beta and friend, for proofreading &lt;3 (all mistakes are still my own)<br/>2. a couple people who really made me smile through comments and tumblr messages. You know who you are. I love you all. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had no idea what was going on. Atsumu had forgiven him, and seemed to understand why he’d lied at all. And the sex - Atsumu had said to keep going. Sakusa had been so gentle, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>he had. He’d tried to put so much emotion in each of his movements, tried to show Atsumu how much he meant to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d tried to show him that he meant it when he said he’d be what Atsumu needed in a partner, which included communication - something Sakusa needed to be better at. He knew he’d fucked up, but he was going to be better from now on. For Atsumu, even if Sakusa didn’t have the same need for transparency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this was the result, Atsumu asleep in his arms after spending so long trying not to cry in front of him. His cheeks were still ruddy, his eyes still puffy, and Sakusa didn’t know what he’d done wrong. But it was obviously something, or this would not have happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to put Atsumu in the bath and worship him, clean his skin from whatever pain he was feeling, and wrap him back up in his arms when he was done. Because Sakusa didn’t share his feelings in words, but in actions. In caring for his partner, and making sure their needs were met. But Atsumu was asleep now, and the sun was starting to come up, so Sakusa pulled the blanket over them and fell asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He woke up earlier than he wanted, with a headache and a sour taste in his mouth. Atsumu was still asleep, but their positions had reversed. Now Sakusa was on his side with Atsumu pressed close behind him, a leg thrown over his hips and an arm around his chest like Sakusa was some kind of enormous pillow. He could feel Atsumu’s breaths tickling the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa turned in Atsumu’s arms to study his face, slack with sleep. He was drooling a little, and he looked peaceful. All the agitation from last night was gone, and like this Sakusa could almost pretend they were back to normal. When Atsumu woke up, would he look sad again? Would he look absent, like some part of his mind had taken refuge elsewhere?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was usually so intense, so present, so lively. Watching the pain play out on his face had been horrible, like somebody had doused the candle inside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Today was the day Sakusa had promised to bring Atsumu by the shelter to see Yuki. They hadn’t talked about it since the fight, obviously, but Sakusa hoped they could still go. Yuki had been looking forward to it for over a week. Carefully so he didn’t wake Atsumu, Sakusa pulled away and got out of bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mid-morning sun was bright even through the drawn shades, and Atsumu looked so soft lying there. Soft enough that Sakusa almost got back in bed and woke him up with his mouth on his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he pulled his sweats from yesterday back on and left Atsumu alone in the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlas was awake in the living room. Whereas yesterday morning he’d greeted Sakusa with a tail wag and shy head butt, today he kept his distance. It made Sakusa’s heart ache. Was it because he’d teleported in so quickly and scared him? Was it because he’d upset Atsumu? Either way, Atlas’s piercing gaze made Sakusa feel like a criminal in his boyfriend’s house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fed Atlas first, and resolved to give the dog space until Atlas came to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s fridge was basically empty, which ruined Sakusa’s plans to make breakfast for him, but he made coffee that he had zero intention of drinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smell of coffee apparently wasn’t enough to wake up his caffeine-addict boyfriend, so Sakusa bent to kiss his sleeping lips. Atsumu’s morning breath was gross, and Sakusa didn’t even care. Straightening back up, Sakusa ran his thumbs softly over Atsumu’s eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu mumbled and swatted a lazy hand at Sakusa, which he caught in his own and pressed another kiss to the palm of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up, I made coffee,” Sakusa said, two inches from Atsumu’s ear, then dropped another kiss at the top of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu squinted his eyes open, saw Sakusa, and rolled onto his stomach with a whine. Sakusa straddled his ass and smoothed his hands up his back. When he reached his shoulders, he dug his thumbs in along Atsumu’s spine. Atsumu groaned, but this time it was in pleasure and not grumpiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were going to see Yuki today, remember? I thought we could pick up lunch.” Sakusa kept working his way down Atsumu’s back, enjoying the way his hips twitched when he pressed his thumbs to the dimples above Atsumu’s ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes cracked back open. “Shit, yeah,” he croaked. Sakusa got off of him, giving him room to get up. Sitting up in bed, Atsumu grabbed the coffee first, breathing in a deep inhale before taking a sip. And another, then another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa watched him drink the coffee, wanting to reach out but unsure where they stood now that Atsumu had had a whole night to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we okay?” Sakusa’s mouth asked, without permission from his brain. Atsumu must be rubbing off on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu blinked up at him. His face stayed neutral as he said, “Yeah, ‘course.” Sakusa narrowed his eyes at him. He didn’t seem like he was lying, but that also seemed too easy. Then again, Atsumu was the communicative one out of the two; if something were wrong, Sakusa could count on Atsumu to tell him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shower?” Atsumu asked, once he’d finished his coffee. He was still naked, and Sakusa shuddered to think of the dried fluids on both of their bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he exhaled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One shower and two blowjobs later, they were dressed and walking out the door with Atlas trailing along behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They got burritos, because Atsumu whined until Sakusa agreed, and made it to the shelter by noon with a paper bag of burritos and two sodas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OMIIIIIIII,” Yuki screamed across the grassy courtyard when they walked through the door. She sprinted to them and Sakusa almost stumbled under her excited weight when she launched herself up into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu laughed at him. “She calls ya Omi too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gaped down at Atlas. “Is this your dog??” she asked, scrambling down to the ground as fast as she’d left it. “Hey Atsumu, good to see ya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlas looked scared of her, but the overwhelmed kind and not the truly afraid kind of scared. Luckily, Yuki approached the dog more slowly than she’d approached Sakusa, and Atlas let her pet him, which she did with glee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His name is Atlas,” Atsumu said, crouching down next to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good name,” Yuki said, nodding judgmentally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat on the ground near Yuki’s favorite tree (she insisted everyone should have a favorite tree, and Atsumu agreed) and ate their burritos. Sakusa pretended not to notice Yuki slipping Atlas pieces of meat from hers, and Atsumu did the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuki, can ya turn into any bug ya want? Those butterflies were pretty, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki grinned around a mouthful of food and it made her cheeks bulge. “I fink so,” she said, flicking away the rice that fell out of her mouth when she spoke before swallowing. “Wanna see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu waved her off. “Sure, later. Finish yer burrito first.” She beamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt a sudden lump in his throat, and had to work to swallow around it. It was a warm day out, Yuki was wearing a sundress. Atsumu had finished his burrito first and was reclining on bent elbows, feet knocking into Sakusa’s. Atlas had rested his muzzle in Yuki’s lap, patiently awaiting the next piece she’d give him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered the thought he’d had last time, about the family he could build, the family they could become together. A family like he’d never really had. He watched Atsumu interact with Yuki, drawing more giggles out of her than Sakusa ever had. Something in his chest unclenched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After they ate, Yuki showed Atsumu the vegetable garden where some of the plants were just sprouting from the soil. “You sit here,” she directed, tugging Atsumu down with two hands on his arm. “Then ya pull out all the icko weeds - but make sure ya get the whole root. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole root, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu reached out to pinch a plant between his fingers. Before he could pull, Yuki shrieked, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“NOT the carrots, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Atsumu!” When Yuki turned away, Atsumu winked over at Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kinda surprised yer willin’ to get yer hands dirty like this, Omi,” he said, when Sakusa began digging through the dirt for a stubborn dandelion root that he’d accidentally broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dirt is psychologically clean,” Sakusa explained, and didn’t miss the confused look Yuki and Atsumu shared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As good as the warm day felt, and as happy as everyone seemed, Sakusa was a little on edge. Atsumu was being...too normal, almost. He was laughing and joking, and if it were just that, Sakusa wouldn’t have been worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But sometimes, he’d look over at Atsumu and find a melancholy look on his face. Once he noticed Sakusa’s gaze, he’d cheer up and make a joke. But whatever Atsumu was worried about, Sakusa hoped it got resolved soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be fair, he himself was a little worried. A week from now, he’d be restrained in a warehouse while people used his body without his consent. He’d have to keep himself alive if things went south, and trust that Nekoma and his friends would get him out as soon as they had the information they needed. So, that was hanging over his head. And probably Atsumu’s, too. He just hoped that was all it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the week was the same. They acted like they always did, and Atsumu was almost normal. They still talked, and touched, and fucked, but the nagging feeling of Atsumu being off persisted. He seemed spacier than before, but he always brushed it off with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was different? Sakusa couldn’t tell. But sometimes when he’d look over, Atsumu would have this hollow look on his face. Like he was falling apart on the inside, but it would vanish the instant he noticed Omi looking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wasn’t even sure anything was wrong - like maybe Atsumu had always been like this, Sakusa just hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t been around him enough </span>
  <em>
    <span>to </span>
  </em>
  <span>notice. Still, he reminded himself that Atsumu would talk if he wanted and that if something were really wrong, he would tell Sakusa about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Atsumu was healed enough - Sakusa hated that it had taken two weeks for the bruises around his eyes to fade, and for his ribs to stop aching - he took Sakusa to Iwaizumi’s gym.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Oikawa met them at the door. He hugged Atsumu, and glared at Sakusa the whole time. It was no secret Oikawa hated him, and Sakusa didn’t even blame him. What he did feel bad for, however, was that two of Atsumu’s closest people didn’t get along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the primary reason Sakusa wasn’t an asshole right back, when Oikawa did things like whisper insults under his breath so only Sakusa could hear, and introduce him to Iwaizumi as “the asshole Atsumu’s been hanging around with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi laughed, and ruffled Oikawa’s hair a little hard if Oikawa’s squawk was anything to go by. “Nice to meetcha, Sakusa. I’m Iwaizumi,” he said, holding out his hand to shake. Sakusa shook it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, Iwa, I’m gonna need ya to beat Omi here in a fight, since I’ve been talkin’ ya up for months now. Can ya do it?” Atsumu asked, smiling a dangerous smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa looked to him in surprise - he hadn’t told Sakusa that he’d be fighting, but that didn’t mean Sakusa wouldn’t do it. He was curious, after all, since Atsumu spoke so highly of Iwaizumi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you don’t want to fight him yourself?” Iwaizumi asked, patting Atsumu on the shoulder. Sakusa noticed that the gesture made Atsumu blush very slightly, and decided to ask about it later. Atsumu glanced at Sakusa, something hidden in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I’ll save that for later,” he joked, but it felt forced. Sakusa hoped it wasn’t because he was afraid Sakusa would hurt him by accident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, if you insist. I always enjoy winning fights,” Iwaizumi replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa raised his eyebrow. “You know I’m fae, right?” It wouldn’t be a fair fight, especially if Iwaizumi didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? Iwa-chan can still beat you,” Oikawa sneered. It was lighthearted, though. Iwaizumi nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do know,” he said, “and Tooru’s right. It won’t matter.” The man was ballsy, Sakusa had to give him that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was already grinning by the time Iwaizumi was handing Sakusa a pair of gloves and stepping into the ring. He and Oikawa were whispering to each other, cackling and gesturing nonsensically. At this point, Sakusa couldn’t tell if Atsumu thought he was going to win or lose. He didn’t know whether Atsumu </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>him to win or lose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter - Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t lose fights, and today would be no different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...It was different. Atsumu crooned sympathies at him, but his laughter made him jostle the bag of frozen peas he was holding to Sakusa’s face. Sakusa snatched it from him and held it himself, so Atsumu was free to dissolve onto the floor laughing, with Oikawa, who was crying he was laughing so hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, guys, don’t be assholes,” Iwaizumi grunted. Sakusa appreciated it. If his cheek weren’t throbbing as bad as it was, maybe he’d find it funny, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fight hadn’t lasted longer than ten seconds. All it had taken was one </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely </span>
  </em>
  <span>hard punch from Iwaizumi for Sakusa to be flat on his back, eyes shifting in and out of focus with the heartbeat he could suddenly feel in his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t even had a chance to fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to get you, next time,” Sakusa promised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I look forward to it, maybe you’ll last a little longer,” Iwaizumi said with a grin that was far too innocent for the amount of power he packed in his huge biceps and the innuendo of his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gotta say,” Oikawa gasped in between bouts of laughter, face red with joy, “I like you better after watching that. Like some kind of cosmic retribution.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey now,” Atsumu said, smacking Oikawa weakly in the shoulder with a limp hand, “Ya said ya were gonna be nicer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is me being nicer,” Oikawa said with a pout. “Besides, you still didn’t tell me about - fuck, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ow, </span>
  </em>
  <span>asshole.” Atsumu pulled his foot back from Oikawa’s shin. If Sakusa were more insecure, he would probably have cared more about whatever that was about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he just tilted his head back and closed his eyes and tried not to be humiliated by the whole experience.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if that weren’t enough, that night, they went to Osamu and Suna’s house for dinner. Sakusa walked through the door knowing full well that neither was particularly happy with him at the moment and that he had a sizable bruise extending from his eye socket to his temple and upper cheek on one side. Joy of joys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, Suna, brought you a toy,” Atsumu said, the second Suna opened the door, and chucked a duck-shaped squeaky dog toy at him. Suna caught it and flipped Atsumu off, but Sakusa noticed he didn’t immediately throw the toy in the trash, but tossed it to the couch. Maybe Atsumu hadn’t been lying when he’d said Suna unironically enjoyed dog toys while in fox form. Poor guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sup Atsumu,” Osamu called from the kitchen, but Atsumu was the one to tackle him in a rough hug. A moment later, he dropped one arm from the hug to snag an onigiri from a half-assembled plate and stuff the whole thing in his enormous mouth like the ape he was. Osamu smacked his stuffed cheek with the back of one hand, but Atsumu just grinned brightly at him, showing off his mouthful of half-chewed food. Osamu smacked him again, harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Sakusa,” Osamu greeted, noticeably cooler than the greeting he’d given his brother in a way that indicated it wasn’t just because they were related.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Osamu.” At some point Sakusa could see himself getting tired of having to convince all of Atsumu’s loved ones that he wasn’t some rageful homicidally aggressive asshole. The other part of him knew it was warranted and was glad Atsumu had so many people looking out for him. And he knew he deserved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner stressed Sakusa out at first, since he knew Osamu had prepared all of the onigiri with his hands and he didn’t know how well he’d washed them, but then he remembered Osamu was literally a chef and probably had fantastic food hygiene. It was better, after that, and Sakusa let himself enjoy the onigiri Osamu had made for him, complete with pickled plum filling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wrinkled his nose in distaste at Sakusa’s food, but Sakusa knew Atsumu had requested them specifically for him, so the judgment fell flat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Atsumu tells me yer gettin’ kidnapped?” Osamu asked, halfway through dinner. Atsumu stiffened by Sakusa’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa swallowed. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu folded his hands on the table, which was somehow worse than wherever they’d been before. “He said it’s pretty risky.” The implication was obvious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yer gonna be alone?” This was starting to feel like an interrogation. Next to him, Atsumu had stopped eating and was clenching his fist in his lap. Suna was watching them with what looked like disinterest, but there was a sharp look in his eye that proved otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya promised me ya’d never hurt him again, ya remember that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That includes gettin’ yerself killed, ya know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded again - he didn’t know what else to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Part of bein’ with somebody is takin’ into account how yer actions are gonna affect ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, Sakusa was starting to learn that. Albeit slowly, he’d admit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I’m sayin’ is,” Osamu leaned closer across the table, “Ya better come back in one piece, Sakusa Kiyoomi. I won’t have my brother worryin’ about some asshole with no self-preservation instinct. He deserves better’n that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wanted to be mad, wanted to stand up for himself, but all he could feel in that moment was gratitude that Atsumu had somebody who loved him as fiercely as his brother obviously did. Nobody had spoken about Sakusa like that before, and while part of him was jealous, the other part just - understood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Samu, cut it out,” Atsumu said, his face an interesting combination of anxiety, tension, and embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And while I’m on it, don’t think I haven’t noticed Atsumu bein’ weird lately,” Osamu continued. Sakusa’s gut turned cold. Did Osamu know something he didn’t? “So apologize already for whatever ya did.” Sakusa’s eyes were wide and unfocused. Seeming satisfied, Osamu returned to eating and sharing gooey looks with Suna as they passed bits of food back and forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning to Atsumu, Sakusa saw his head averted. His ears were bright red. “It’s fuckin’ fine, ‘Samu, quit stickin’ yer filthy nose in our business,” he grumbled, and Osamu ignored him completely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, Sakusa brought it up again. They were playing cribbage (Sakusa had been trying to teach Atsumu some card games as if that might chill him out a bit as a person), Atlas was curled up under Sakusa’s feet (validating, since he was worried the dog was afraid of him now), and Sakusa couldn’t stop thinking about Atsumu’s vacant looks and Osamu’s comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, so now what do I do?” Atsumu asked, looking confusedly at his cards. He was wearing one of Sakusa’s sweaters, since he apparently had an allergy to his own clothing. It was slightly too big and entirely cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s fine,” Sakusa said, instead of answering his question. He wanted to kick himself. Communicating made his skin prickle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Atsumu’s mouth dropped open slightly and his eyebrows pinched together. He glanced back to his cards then up at Sakusa again. Sakusa’s scalp tingled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re acting like it’s fine, but I don’t think it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yer gonna hafta be a little more specific, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu said, but Sakusa didn’t think he was imagining the sudden nervousness in his boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promised I’d communicate, and then I didn’t, and you seem weirdly fine with it, but I don’t think you actually are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you a master of emotion now, Omi?” Atsumu chuckled. Outside, a raindrop on the window turned into two, then five, then too many to count. It was dark, but the droplets reflected the city light in bright streaks down the glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just thought you might want to talk about it.” The more he spoke, the more Sakusa started to feel like he was right in his anxiety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scoffed. “Omi wants to talk about somethin’? Ya sure ya haven’t been bodyswapped?” Rude, but fair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to,” no sense in lying, when Atsumu knew him so well, “But I think we should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Atsumu curling and uncurling his toes came from under the table - they cracked and popped with each movement. He looked at Sakusa with considering eyes, and bit the inside of his lip. He sighed and dropped his cards, face up, on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I hated it and it made me sad and it made me feel like I couldn’t trust ya.” A pause. “Happy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well no, not really. Why didn’t you say that the first time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu got up abruptly and walked to the kitchen. Before Sakusa could decide whether he should follow him or not, Atsumu was back with a cup of water and a blanket draped over his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it didn’t matter,” he said when he sat down, this time with his knees tucked up to his chest. “I thought about how much it really mattered, and I decided it wasn’t that important. So I’m gettin’ over it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa breathed. “But if it hurt you, which it obviously did, doesn’t that make it important?” Sakusa almost felt like he was on the wrong side of this argument, that Atsumu should be the one arguing this side, not him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu let out another half laugh. “People hurt other people all the time, Omi. Doesn’t mean we gotta make a big deal about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you said you wanted me to communicate better…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I do. But maybe it’ll take awhile to change, Omi, and maybe ya never will. And eventually, if it’s too much, I’ll just leave. But for now I gotta accept I can’t make you do anything ya don’t wanna do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s chest ached in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So; I hurt you by lying again after I said I wouldn’t, and that made you realize that I might never change and you figured the best thing to do would be to suffer in silence and pretend it didn’t bother you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu squinted. “Uh, yeah? It’s my issue anyway, Omi. If I just cared less, this wouldn’t even be an issue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, it certainly looked like he’d fucked up more than he thought. In no world had he expected Atsumu to give up so easily. It hadn’t escaped Sakusa that Atsumu was implying that he’d felt his choice had been between breaking up with Sakusa and resigning himself to an untrustworthy partner. As if Sakusa would not have been willing to change. And that’s what he’d done, unintentionally, by going back on his word so fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t want Atsumu to care less. He didn’t want Atsumu to feel like Sakusa didn’t care enough to change this one thing that would bring his partner happiness and validation. He wanted to take it back even more than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to be better, Atsumu. I told you, and I meant it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, Omi,” Atsumu said, picking up his cards again like their talk was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, I’m agreeing with ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not - you’re just saying what you think I want you to say.” Gods, he was frustrating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that’s what ya think, that’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s eye twitched. Of course, now that they finally had a conversation that went somewhere - even though it made Sakusa itch with discomfort - Atsumu ended it by being childish and dismissive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fine, then. Sakusa would just be vulnerable by himself over here and hope Atsumu didn’t rip him apart. “You don’t have to believe me. I know I haven’t given you reason to. But I mean it, and I’ll show you. I’ll earn your trust back whether you want me to or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because refusing to trust someone had its advantages, Sakusa knew. It was safer that way, and for Atsumu whom he’d already hurt so much, it actually made a lot of sense. No matter how much it made it feel like Sakusa had eaten and then puked up his own heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had taken the emotional risk before, and been burnt. It was Sakusa’s turn now, ironic though it may have been that as soon as Sakusa realized just how much Atsumu meant to him, Atsumu was trying to distance himself. Sakusa wouldn’t let it happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finished their cribbage game, which mostly meant Sakusa telling Atsumu how to take his turn every time, and by the time their eyes were drooping, the atmosphere felt normal again. Atsumu was playing lazy footsie with him under the table, and had taken off his blanket shield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hadn’t been spending every night at Atsumu’s. Before the meeting, before Atsumu had found out the rest of the plan, Sakusa had been spending as much time as possible with Atsumu, knowing he wouldn’t be able to soon. Now, though, as much as he wanted to continue being by his side, he wasn’t sure if Atsumu wanted space or company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have to ask. Because once it hit eleven o’clock, Atsumu stood. He reached down to grab Sakusa’s hand and pull him towards the bedroom. “Stay?” Atsumu asked over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” He would always stay, when Atsumu asked, and it didn’t even feel weird anymore that someone so annoying could never get on Sakusa’s nerves the way most people did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa let Atsumu lead him down the hall to the bedroom by their intertwined hands, and Sakusa felt some hesitation. Not because he didn’t want to have sex (because he wasn’t stupid; every time they went to bed together they had sex) - he always wanted to have sex with Atsumu, if he were being honest - but because he didn’t want Atsumu to do anything Atsumu wasn’t comfortable with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when Atsumu lay down and pulled Sakusa on top of him and into a kiss, Sakusa broke away. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu rolled his eyes, which Sakusa didn’t appreciate. “‘Course I’m sure.” He pulled Sakusa into a kiss again, and again Sakusa pulled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it, Atsumu. We don’t have to do this, we can be together without fucking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu looked irritated now, the anticipatory look in his eyes fading to annoyance. “Omi, I appreciate what yer tryin’ to do. I really do. And maybe that one time I shouldn’t’ve pushed,” Sakusa’s heart lurched, “But I’m good now, and I want ya. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if yer just askin’ ‘cause yer worried about me, ya don’t have to. Not this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He felt stupid for going along with Atsumu that night, like he should have picked up on his emotions before it was too late, but he’d rationalized that Atsumu was an adult and didn’t need Sakusa telling him what he was and wasn’t comfortable with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That, and Sakusa knew Atsumu had had a habit of using sex as a distraction from his emotions in the past. He hadn’t minded being that distraction, but he wished he had picked up on Atsumu’s feelings sooner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa narrowed his eyes. “Fine, but I’m going to ride you.” It was far too easy to give in to Atsumu and his bedroom eyes, his wandering hands, and the way Sakusa could feel his skin heating everywhere he was pressed against his boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu cackled, head thrown back, and Sakusa felt himself settle. There was nothing but excitement and arousal in his boyfriend’s eyes. “Ya said that like I’d ever say no to seein’ ya on top of me,” Atsumu crooned, and wiggled up the bed with Sakusa above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t bottom much, and he was starting to think Atsumu liked it more than he did anyway, but something about tonight felt different. Whether it was the way he’d finally asked Atsumu to tell him the truth, or his newfound conviction to be who Atsumu needed in a partner, he found himself looking forward to feeling Atsumu inside him again, feeling his strength underneath him and his arms around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it wasn’t like Atsumu didn’t enjoy it, too. His mouth always got away from him, whispering all sorts of filth in Sakusa’s ear as Atsumu spread him open with his fingers and then his cock, practically narrating everything he was doing. Sakusa hated how much he liked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Sakusa straddled Atsumu’s hips, and Atsumu bent his legs up to settle Sakusa in the cradle of his pelvis. Sakusa could already feel Atsumu hardening beneath him. He rocked his hips once, dragging his own half-hard length against Atsumu’s through their thin sweatpants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu put his hands on Sakusa’s hips and dragged his thumbs in slow circles right under the waistband, the rough pads of his thumbs sending trickles of sensation right to Sakusa’s groin. Leaning forward, Sakusa bracketed Atsumu’s face and met him in another kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was always less bratty when he topped, less likely to rile Sakusa into roughness, so the kiss stayed as slow and languorous as Sakusa wanted. Atsumu’s lips parted in a small sigh and Sakusa slipped his tongue inside, licking away the chapped edge of Atsumu’s lower lip and teasing along his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu groaned and used his grip on Sakusa’s hips to roll his own up, grinding them together. Sakusa used one hand to tilt Atsumu’s head, giving him better access to his mouth. He shivered when Atsumu bit him, lip throbbing under Atsumu’s sharp teeth. Sakusa was always careful with bites because of his sharper teeth, but Atsumu had no such reservations. He soothed the sting with his tongue after, and sucked Sakusa’s lip into his mouth with another roll of his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They helped each other out of their clothes, taking breaks for kisses. Atsumu wrapped Sakusa’s head in his t-shirt instead of pulling it off, and smacked a big muffled kiss right on his covered face. Sakusa retaliated by smacking Atsumu’s ass, hard, while he was struggling out of his underwear. The sound Atsumu made was half-scandalized and half-interested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he wasn’t careful, Sakusa might just fall in love with this man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then they were back together, and Sakusa was straddling Atsumu again, and enjoying the way Atsumu’s hard cock pressed between his cheeks before Sakusa shifted to wrap both of their cocks in one large hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too dry to get any good movement, but the pressure still felt good and seeing their cocks side by side, heads slipping in and out of his fist, made his breath come faster. Atsumu fit his own hand around Sakusa’s, closing it tighter around them. Atsumu tilted his head back and made a long, drawn-out satisfied noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanna say ya look good on top of me, Omi,” Atsumu said, eyes half-lidded, “But the truth is, ya look good wherever ya are. Especially if yer this close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa tried to smirk, but he had a feeling it looked less cocky and more reverent than he intended. He took the lube from beside Atsumu’s head, but instead of using it to slick up the hand that was working both of their cocks, he slicked up his non-dominant hand and brought it back, between his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu perked up when he saw what Sakusa was doing. “Hey, no fair, I wanted to do that,” he complained, but took over lazily stroking their cocks so Sakusa could use one hand to brace himself against Atsumu’s abs and lean forward for an easy angle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first finger had him sucking in a breath - no matter how many times he did it, it always felt weird at first. He tried to relax and focus on Atsumu’s hand on his cock, then Atsumu’s other hand on Sakusa’s hip, leaving teasing trails with his thumb near Sakusa’s groin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he went to get more lube, Atsumu held out his hand with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Instead of moving it to their cocks, like Sakusa had expected, Atsumu slid his hand underneath Sakusa to tease along Sakusa’s perineum. When Sakusa slid his own finger inside again, Atsumu’s middle finger was there, too, rubbing firmly along his stretched skin before sinking in alongside Sakusa’s slowly enough that it didn’t hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately, Atsumu slid upwards and curled his finger into Sakusa’s prostate, and Sakusa nearly choked. His abs flexed, bending him forward, and he let out a moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got ya that fast, huh?” Atsumu teased, and did it again. Sakusa’s abs shook with how hard it was to keep upright when Atsumu slid a second finger in with their other two, and rubbed them both firmly against Sakusa’s prostate. Sakusa’s own finger was useless now, just taking up space, since he didn’t have the brain power to do much of anything when Atsumu was driving him towards drooling pleasure so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa bit his own lip to try to stop the noises from falling out of his mouth, but it didn’t work. Every time Atsumu scissored his fingers, pulling them out to stretch his rim, Sakusa heard himself whine. And every time they slid back in, finding that spot inside him, Sakusa heard himself groan quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes and locked his hips, focusing on the sensation of Atsumu’s thick fingers inside him, working him over so well he could feel sweat gathering between his pecs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was the one to grab the condom, since Sakusa was too floaty to do anything. Atsumu held up the foil wrapper with one hand and shook it at Sakusa, who apparently took too long realizing what Atsumu wanted before Atsumu rolled his eyes and stuck one corner in his mouth, using his teeth to tear it gently so he didn’t mess with the condom inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t even help him roll it on, just twitched his hips backward bit by bit, wishing Atsumu’s fingers could reach even farther. Sakusa slid his own finger out then, and used it to trace his rim gently, before pushing back inside with a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Atsumu was propping up his covered cock and saying, “C’mon, Omi, shh, I gotcha,” as he slipped his fingers out and his cock in between one moment and the next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The difference was obvious. Their fingers had been good, but nothing could ever compare to how Sakusa’s hole split around Atsumu’s slippery fat head, swallowing it easily with the lube. As soon as the tip was in, Atsumu let go and moved his hands to support under Sakusa’s thighs, moving his hands in soothing arcs but not pulling him down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was proud of his thick cock, Sakusa knew, but it meant Sakusa had to go slow as he used his shaking thighs to lower him, bit by bit, on his lover’s swollen dick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he bottomed out, Atsumu shifted his hands back to Sakusa’s hips, using them to hold him still so he could grind up hard, getting just slightly deeper than before. Atsumu was hard and hot inside him, and Sakusa clenched his abs as he got a feel for everything. He tightened his hole, too, just to feel the way it made Atsumu’s cock flex inside him and Atsumu swear under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuuuck, Omi, ya feel so good,” Atsumu breathed, looking at him with soft eyes. Sakusa could feel how flushed his face was, and he knew he had to give his straining thighs a moment. Superior fae strength or not, sitting on a dick was hard work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always forget how good ya feel, yer so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tight, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Omi,” he continued, bucking his hips up again into Sakusa, toppling him forward so he had to catch himself with his hands against Atsumu’s chest. The movement made Atsumu slide halfway out, and Sakusa missed it immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From there, Atsumu bent his knees and held Sakusa’s hips still so he could pump his hips up, thrusting deep inside Sakusa again. The curve of his cock meant Atsumu’s head slammed his prostate, and Sakusa gasped harshly as he pulled out and did it again, not giving Sakusa time to recover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too good; it was too much too fast and Sakusa already felt his orgasm approaching as Atsumu flexed into him again and again. That wasn’t what he’d been going for, as good as it felt to have tears collecting in his eyes from the stimulation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa used one hand to pin Atsumu, and rose up on his legs, sliding himself nearly all the way off of Atsumu’s cock until just the head was inside, the flared tip pulling gently at his hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hands behind your head,” Sakusa said, hoping he sounded authoritative and not so aroused he was worried about coming too soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyebrows flicked up but he complied, spreading his elbows wide on either side of his head and folding his hands under his head. He also relaxed his abs, letting his hips lie flat on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Sakusa said, and watched the way it made Atsumu inhale sharply. Of course he’d have a praise kink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They’d be investigating that together, later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for now, Sakusa sank back down slowly, feeling Atsumu’s cock push back up, inside, where it was before. The slight upward curve of it still teased his prostate, but it was more manageable now that Sakusa was controlling the pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept his hand on Atsumu’s chest for balance as he flexed his thighs and slid up, up, again. He didn’t hesitate before dropping back down, just as slow as he’d pulled off. Atsumu’s arms twitched like they wanted to move, but Atsumu kept them there. Good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa rode him like that, slow and smooth, until there was sweat dripping between his shoulder blades and dampening his temples. He fucked him like that until his legs were quaking, and Atsumu had taken to gripping his hair so he didn’t move his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was still working, abs flexing to drive his hips harder into Sakusa, so their skin slapped together on every thrust. But he didn’t speed it up, content to watch Sakusa through hazy eyes and bitten lips while Saksua took his pleasure from Atsumu’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having had his fill of the slow fucking, Sakusa pushed up and dropped, using his body weight to drive Atsumu inside him again. Atsumu made a punched out noise, and Sakusa moaned when he did it again, and again, building a rhythm - thighs flexing on the upstroke, then relaxing to let gravity do the work on the way down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Omi, I’m gonna come,” Atsumu said, hands finally leaving his head towards Sakusa’s hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet,” Sakusa replied, but he didn’t change his rhythm. He sped up, eyes closing in bliss at the way Atsumu’s dick angled perfectly into his prostate every time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi, please,” Atsumu begged, hands hovering uselessly like he wasn’t sure he could touch him yet. Sakusa took them in his own and drew them to his hips, so Atsumu could feel the way his body flexed with every movement, the way his muscles were beginning to shake, the way he jolted every time Atsumu’s cock hit that spot inside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi, I’m serious, if ya don’t quit -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa sat, feeling the heavy weight of Atsumu’s throbbing cock inside him, and stayed there. He moved his own hand to his cock and jacked himself, knowing he was close. As his hand sped up, he rotated his hips in tiny circles, so the cock inside him dragged slowly across his spot with every circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s grip tightened on Sakusa’s hips, breath coming in choked off little gasps now that he’d almost come only to have Sakusa stop moving the way he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t take his eyes of Atsumu’s beautiful, flushed face and glassy eyes when he came with a moan, tilting his face up to expose his neck and feel the way his muscles spasmed all the way from his diaphragm to his ass, clenching hard around Atsumu, who was chanting, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he watched Sakusa come. Thick white globs of come landed all over Atsumu, and Sakusa liked knowing they’d make Atsumu smell like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the last jet spurted from his flushed tip, he raised himself up again and dropped, dragging another groan from Atsumu, who used his tight grip on Sakusa’s hips to encourage him faster. Sakusa bounced on his cock, relishing the way it dragged out his orgasm, and ignoring the way overstimulation crept into his senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu came fast, shoulders lifting off the mattress with the force of it as he curled upwards with a grimace on his face and a moan he forced through his clenched teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa could feel him jerk inside, further stimulating his oversensitive body. When Atsumu finally relaxed, Sakusa arched his back so Atsumu’s softening cock slipped out of his body, and immediately lay down on top of Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, fuck, that was -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me dude right after sex,” Sakusa interrupted him, but he was too droopy to put any bite in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was incredible,” Atsumu breathed into Sakusa’s temple, where he was mouthing gentle kisses that made Sakusa’s heart flutter pleasantly. Atsumu rearranged them slightly so Sakusa was half-draped across his chest instead of fully. The sweat on their bodies was mixing, but it didn’t gross Sakusa out. If anything, he liked it, in some odd unifying kind of way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he liked it for approximately seven minutes before the sensation of cooling, viscous come made his skin itch so he propped himself up on an elbow and used all his strength to shove Atsumu off the bed and onto the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck, Omi?” Atsumu wailed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shower.” Sakusa was already halfway there, and Atsumu scooted up behind him and nuzzled into his shoulder, dropping another kiss on the back of his neck that Sakusa really </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>liked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I get it,” Atsumu said, “Yer feelin’ all mushy and soft and ya had to be mean to balance it out, am I right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need me to do it again?” Sakusa asked, turning to side-eye Atsumu with a cold look. He bent to turn on the shower, and caught Atsumu’s hand before it could slap his ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope! I think ya should embrace how great ya obviously think I am, and accept the fact that I make yer heart go soft.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Sakusa turned around, and with a gentle hand on the back of Atsumu’s neck, brought him in for a soft kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stilled, cheeks turning a soft pink, looking stunned. He swallowed. Out of all the things they’d just done, this was what made him self-conscious? Sakusa leaned in again and brushed their lips together a second time, humming into Atsumu’s mouth. Before Atsumu could kiss back, Sakusa was ducking into the shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu joined a moment later, but Sakusa didn’t turn to him. His own face was feeling warm, as though the kiss had been a confession of those very warm and precious feelings he was harboring for Atsumu, whose teasing had been uncomfortably close to the mark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day before Sakusa was to get kidnapped, they woke up late and walked to Bokuto and Akaashi’s house. They stopped by a bakery to pick up donuts (and a dog biscuit for Atlas), and when they arrived at the apartment, Kuroo answered the door in his pajamas despite it almost being noon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are ya always the one that answers the door?” Atsumu asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hear you first,” Kuroo answered, and wandered away from the door so they could follow him. The guys were all in various states of sleepiness. Akaashi was making coffee, which he offered to Atsumu, and Kenma was eating a frozen waffle. Like, still frozen. Un-toasted. Frosty. Sakusa could almost feel the cold, gritty texture on the pads of his fingers. He shivered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh ho ho, what’s this?” Bokuto boomed from the couch, getting up and earning a grumble from Kenma, who had been tucked into his side with the waffle gripped in one hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donuts!” Atsumu yelled, just as loud, and stuck out his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close your mouth, Atsumu,” Sakusa said, half-teasing and half-serious. Atsumu flipped him off, but didn’t pull his hand away that was busy holding Sakusa’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa arrived shortly after, with mimosa supplies and a sharp grin. He and Oikawa were on better terms after the gym incident (Sakusa tried not to dwell on his spectacular defeat) but they weren’t anywhere close to being friends. Sakusa didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What did bother him, was how much Atlas already liked Oikawa, as if he couldn’t smell the beauty products Oikawa used to hide his awful personality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa got along with Kuroo great too, and the two cackled incessantly while making mimosas in the kitchen, mostly because they’d helped themselves to the champagne first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, I can track it,” Oikawa stated, pulling out a little vial of Sakusa’s blood and dangling it for them all to see. There was half of a raspberry donut left in the box, and a cream-filled one that nobody wanted that Atsumu would probably end up eating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you get that?!” Atsumu sounded horrified. Sakusa had given it to him the last time they were all together, but Atsumu had already left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy,” Oikawa sneered, but the effect was ruined when Atsumu guffawed and then they were both giggling and smacking each other and Sakusa had no idea what was going on. Akaashi was the only one that looked as confused as Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, Hinata threw open the door and bounded inside, cheeks red from exertion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m late!” He yelled, and ran a circle around everyone, bopping some of them affectionately on the head as he went. Sakusa had forgotten Hinata was even supposed to be there. Oops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata grabbed the cream-filled donut, squished himself onto the couch next to Kenma, and ate half of it in one bite, uncaring about the cream that stuck to his cheeks and the corners of his mouth. It was disgusting, Sakusa had to look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think we have everything figured out. So this is more of a hangout and check-in than a meeting,” Kuroo said, and most of them nodded slightly, “hence the mimosas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata whooped, Oikawa accepted fist bumps, and Sakusa regretted coming. Well, not really, but he’d rather spend his last day with Atsumu rather than with a whole group of people, only half of whom he liked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was why, when the others got drunk in the kitchen and started up the xbox for Mario Kart, he and Akaashi moved to the bedroom. They lay down facing each other, and it was like it used to be, for a little while, when Akaashi and Bokuto were his only friends in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi reached out to Sakusa face, and traced a fingertip gently along the bridge of his nose, an eyebrow, his cheek. “Are you scared?” Akaashi asked, and Sakusa didn’t have to wonder what he was referring to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little,” he admitted. “Not of what will happen to me, I know I can take it. But I want to come back,” he whispered, “I don’t want to leave you guys, or Atsumu, or Yuki. Atlas. Or anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s inconvenient, loving people, isn’t it?” Akaashi murmured. They were so close together that Sakusa could feel Akaashi’s breath when he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worth it, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of loving people,” Sakusa said, and Akaashi’s lips twitched in a slight smile, “Are you ever going to tell me what’s happening with Kuroo and Kenma?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Akaashi was smiling wider, eyes alight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know exactly what I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmmm. I’ll tell you when I figure it out myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa smiled back. “Sounds fair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi pressed a gentle kiss on the tip of Sakusa’s nose. “You’ll come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will. I saw what happened to Atsumu after Hinata died. You wouldn’t do that to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa scoffed. “Not on purpose, but...I don’t know, I’m not invincible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, it was easier to be like this with Akaashi than with Atsumu, sometimes. Atsumu’s rough edges had a tendency to put Sakusa on the defensive. But it helped, knowing Sakusa was capable of what Atsumu had asked for. Intimacy didn’t come naturally to him, but he had it with Akaashi, and he’d get there with Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to be invincible, Kiyoomi. You just have to not die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa chewed on his lip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just don’t die, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. Easy, apparently. He chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. I’ll just not die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Akaashi teased, mouth curving into a soft smile again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fell asleep like that, foreheads touching gently, curled up in Bokuto and Akaashi’s big bed. Sakusa hadn’t meant to, he didn’t even feel tired after all the sleep he’d gotten, but he was so safe and warm and satisfied, it was too easy to close his eyes and drift.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right lovers, get up!” Atsumu’s booming voice startled Sakusa awake. Sakusa barely had time to blink before Atsumu was pulling him off the bed, bending his knees, and maneuvering Sakusa onto his back. Atsumu tucked Sakusa’s arms around his neck, his legs around his waist, and stood up, then sprinted to the living room with Sakusa barely hanging on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was behind them, having picked Akaashi up princess-style, and ignored his sleepy protests as he chased the other two out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the park!” Bokuto screeched, leading the way out the front door with a dog leash in each hand. Hinata was gone, but Oikawa and Kenma were drunkenly leaning against each other by the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu wanted to enjoy the sunshine,” Oikawa explained as Atsumu sped past him, out the door, on unsteady legs. Sakusa didn’t know how Atsumu didn’t trip down the stairs and kill them both, but they made it outside in one piece. Bokuto led the way, chattering excitedly to Oikawa and Kenma, who didn’t appear to be listening. Kuroo had adjusted Akaashi, and was now piggybacking him next to Sakusa and Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa turned his head to watch Akaashi, whose cheek was pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder. The man smiled at him, then scrunched his nose up in a giggle, appearing happy enough to be carried places after the initial shock of waking up to such energetic tipsy people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WAIT,” Atsumu yelled, far too close to Sakusa to be yelling like that, “You should grab Yuki! Omi, get Yuki! Go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conveniently, the shelter was close enough that he could teleport himself and Yuki without hurting himself. The doors of the shelter were splashed with midday sun, and warm when he opened one of them. It was easy to check in, grab Yuki, and teleport them both back to the sidewalk where he’d been last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck,” Atsumu said when Sakusa appeared next to him, holding Yuki’s hand. Then Atsumu clapped a hand over his mouth, looking apologetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Atsu, I know all the swear words!” Yuki beamed up at him, which reminded them all of how horrible her father had been, but Atsumu removed his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want a piggyback ride?” he asked, and Yuki answered by launching herself upward and clambering her way up Atsumu until she was perched on his back, with his elbows hooked under her knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Onward!” Atsumu called, and took off at a run up the block where the others were still walking. Sakusa heaved a long-suffering sigh that he didn’t really mean, and jogged off after them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was probably weird, for anyone that saw them. A bunch of tipsy twenty-somethings, two dogs, and a child hanging out in the park. It was even weird for Sakusa himself, who realized that almost all of the people he cared about were right there, right in front of him, laughing uproariously in the sunshine and throwing a frisbee around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu and Yuki were a unit; he’d sprint around, and she was in charge of catching the frisbee. It was cute to see all these men, hardened in various ways from trauma and life, throw the frisbee gently so Yuki could catch it even when they used all their strength to throw it to each other, aiming for decapitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, Yuki, ya coulda caught that one!” Atsumu yelled, spinning in a circle before dashing to the frisbee in the grass while Kuroo squinted from a distance. It wasn’t quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>fatherly, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but it was caring and gentle in a boisterous way only Atsumu could pull off. Sakusa chose not to think twice about the funny feeling in his chest at hearing Yuki and Atsumu’s laughs drifting together across the sun-dappled grass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi-Omi said not to swear,” Yuki admonished, bopping Atsumu’s head repeatedly with the frisbee he’d handed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Shit’ doesn’t count,” Atsumu replied, twisting from his hips to get extra leverage for Yuki’s throw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okayyyy, if ya say so,” Yuki said with a laugh, glancing back to Sakusa for confirmation. He shook his head, but she just stuck her tongue out at him. Whose side was she on, here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They get along well together,” Akaashi said next to him. Sakusa turned. Akaashi really was ethereally beautiful, Sakusa thought, especially in this bright midday light that made everybody else sweat but just made Akaashi glow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, they do. I’m glad.” Sakusa watched Atsumu set Yuki on the ground so he could stretch his body out for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s hot,” Akaashi said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm,” Sakusa replied, and Atsumu was lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe some sweat from his forehead, revealing his taut torso underneath. Sakusa bit the inside of his lip. “Wait, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was snickering next to him. “Just narrating your thoughts,” he sassed, and Sakusa figured his preexisting heat flush probably masked his newer, embarrassment flush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” Sakusa replied, trying to sulk about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is, though. Atsumu certainly has his moments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyes softened, where he was still watching Atsumu, who was now trying to flee Bokuto and Kuroo in an apparent game of keep-away, while Yuki sat on his shoulders clutching the frisbee with glee. “He really does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gross,” Kenma said from behind them, lowering his game for the explicit purpose of wrinkling his nose at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Akaashi said, a dangerous note in his voice. Kenma’s eyes widened, barely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had no idea what was going on, so he stayed quiet. Akaashi stuck his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, and leered down at Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if I told you I like being around you, that would be gross?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Kenma had the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips, and he was watching Akaashi now, head tilted up, instead of his game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I told you that you look nice today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma wrinkled his nose again, eyes bright. “Gross.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about how when you put your hair up in a bun and a little piece falls out that you have to tuck behind your ear it makes me want to - ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa teleported across the field, ears burning. Squinting back, though, he looked just in time to watch Kenma slap a hand across his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, the last night they would have together for a while, Sakusa felt weird. Anxiety was not a stranger to him, but tonight it was especially uncomfortable. Like ants under his skin, like something he’d forgotten, like a dream about deadlines. The only thing that made it better was Atsumu’s warm skin against his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had already said goodbye to Yuki hours before, crouching down with a serious expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But yer gonna come back, right?” She had asked, and her lip had not wobbled, but her eyes were glassy and concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had swallowed hard. “I don’t want to promise that without knowing I can keep it,” he had told her in a quiet voice. “But I can promise that I will do everything I can to make sure I come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lip had wobbled, then. “So - but what would happen to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt like an asshole. “Atsumu would come visit you, like I have been. I made him swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had not looked satisfied. “But...that’s different. He’s not you, Omi,” she had said, her voice finally breaking as her face scrunched up and she tried not to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I know, and I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just please come back.” With that she had fled, and Sakusa had wondered if the feeling in his chest was heartbreak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Atsumu’s apartment later, the cramped feeling in his chest remained. The whole evening felt hushed. A lamp in the living room lit the kitchen, the sun had set, and Atsumu came up behind Sakusa while he was chopping vegetables to hug his waist and rest his cheek on his shoulder blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed there, glued to Sakusa’s back, while Sakusa dropped the vegetables in a wok with oil, slid noodles into boiling water, and flicked the electric kettle on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only when everything was happily simmering, filling the apartment with pops and quiet sizzles and the smell of comfort, did Sakusa turn around in Atsumu’s arms to hug him back. Everywhere they touched, Sakusa’s skin calmed its buzzing. And when he pressed a gentle kiss to Atsumu’s temple before resting his head on Atsumu, he felt himself calm completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ate curled up on the couch, suddenly too desperate to be more than a foot away from each other. Atsumu put a lo-fi record on, in his pretentious modern record-player, and Sakusa couldn’t think of a time he’d been happier. Not in this moment - not the night before his life turned into a question mark - but generally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had his friends, stronger than he’d ever known. He had Yuki, who made him realize there were exceptions to his general distaste for children. And he had Atsumu, who cared for him despite his flaws and sharp edges that had already torn him once. Atsumu, who felt more like home now than his own apartment. Atsumu, who was falling asleep leaned against him, empty bowl tipped halfway over on his lap, snoring because of the harsh angle of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu, whom Sakusa might already love, who grumbled in his sleep when Sakusa carried him to the room and tucked him in, waking up just enough to demand a goodnight kiss before curling into Sakusa’s chest and falling asleep again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa woke up at three in the morning, per the plan. Atsumu woke up with him, suddenly edgy and nervous like he had not been the night before. He offered Sakusa breakfast, which was stupid because Atsumu still had an empty fridge, and they both knew he was just trying to delay the inevitable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa pressed a kiss to Atsumu’s mouth. Then again, because he suddenly remembered it could very well be the last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlas followed him to the door, and it felt almost ceremonial, like waking up early for a flight and knowing, in the grey not-yet-dawn, that everything was about to change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated halfway out the door, trying but failing to avoid Atsumu’s dark eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I - “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it,” Atsumu growled, not letting Sakusa even get </span>
  <em>
    <span>part </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his sentence out. That was good, because Sakusa hadn’t wanted to say it. But he had felt like he owed Atsumu some kind of...something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seeya soon,” Atsumu snapped, and shut the door in Sakusa’s face. He didn’t take it personally. Walking down the hall then to the dark sidewalk outside, Sakusa knew Atsumu was putting faith in him to make sure Atsumu wasn’t lying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>See you soon, Atsumu. See you soon.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Eh? Eh?<br/>okay but akaken flirting made me  c o m b u s t - I love them so so much</p><p>(in other news, I split and transplanted like six of my philodendrons and I think I killed them. D: so now I'm propagating them in case that saves them. wish me luck.)<br/>Let me know your thoughts, if they want to be known!<br/>Have a lovely week, each and every one of u reading this.<br/>sry this has been a lot of notes I'm just tryna say HEY</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Rocks usually preferred to stay out of human affairs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuki eats some ice cream and does some painting. The sun dips behind a cloud, metaphorically. Atsumu smokes a cigarette (or three).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>SooooOOOOOO we got some big stuff now</p><p>warning for gore, blood, horror/violence/death, that sorta stuff :) as well as the themes we've already been dealing with like trafficking and the commodification of bodies</p><p>So if you don't like that, pls take care of yourself or don't read &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t sleep the rest of that night, even though Omi had left at three in the morning and he could have easily slept until noon any other time. Instead he went back to bed, gently bullied Atlas into joining him, and tried not to let his breathing get faster and faster at the thought of what Omi was doing right then, whether he was in pain, whether the plan was working at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stupid, shitty plan, that rested entirely on Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually the sun rose, and Atsumu watched it from his bedroom, wondering if Omi could see it. Probably not, he was probably knocked out or being tortured or in some basement cell crowded with other people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: anything???</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa didn’t respond for another two hours, and by that time Atsumu had pulled his tired body - and how was it that he could feel so tired and so wired at once? - out of bed to stand in front of his empty fridge, made coffee, sat on the couch in silence, fed Atlas, taken him for a walk, come back to the apartment and changed back into pajamas, laid down in bed, gotten up again, and taken a shower, all of which did little to make him feel normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing about this was normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was very seriously considering walking his ass over to Oikawa’s to bother him in person, when he responded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Oikawa: ffs. it hasnt even been a day, his bloods all in one place dw</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: ok but hes alive right</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Oikawa: Ye and ill letcha know if he dies ok</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: :/</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: ok thx ig</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu felt somehow worse, instead of better, at the realization that Oikawa would be able to tell if Omi died. That said, it did help a little that he did not have to sit around wondering if he was even alive. Like that cat, in the box, and how if nobody checked on it they wouldn’t know if it was dead or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except Omi was a person, not a cat, and this wasn’t hypothetical, and nothing he tried enabled Atsumu to think himself out of how fucked up he was about it. All he could do was hope Omi could take care of himself until Atsumu was allowed to fix it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the next couple of days, Atsumu did not know what to do with himself. He tried to take care of himself, eating and exercising and sleeping, so that he’d be his strongest when he was finally needed. But it was hard, when his mind was always occupied wondering exactly how Omi was doing, how much pain he was in, whether he knew they’d get him out of there or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he was doing just fine, Atsumu tried reasoning one day when he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe Omi was just chilling, bored but unhurt, just waiting. Maybe he was making friends out of the other captives. He felt sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every day, Oikawa sent him a morning text. Every day, Omi was still alive, with his blood all in one place. And with every day that passed, the anxiety heightened, like he was hurtling towards a painful end with no brakes. The longer they waited with no change, the more Atsumu’s mind was invaded with the certainty of failure. Omi would die, they would be too late, Atsumu would do everything he could and it wouldn’t be enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he boxed, now that he was finally healed enough that Iwaizumi let him inside at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those were moments he treasured, when all he could feel was the beat of his heart and the warm air in his lungs as he blinked through the sweat dripping from his overgrown bangs to focus on Iwaizumi, trying to anticipate where his next hit might land.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He also visited Yuki, every day. He had told Omi he would look out for her, but that wasn’t the reason he went. He went because he cared, and because she might have been the only one missing Omi as much as Atsumu was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, he would bring her snacks or food and hang out with her at the shelter, but when she demanded he take her out and about, he was quick to agree. It was weird, traipsing about the city with Yuki on his shoulders pointing stuff out to him and Atlas by his side - nice, but ultimately weird because he was never able to shake the feeling that Omi should have been there with him, holding his hand, or glowering, or reminding Yuki to wash her hands before she ate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>remind Yuki to wash her hands before she ate, and Atsumu didn’t wash his, either. He hoped that wherever Omi was, he felt a phantom chill whenever they ate with grubby dirty hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so he spent two weeks like that, alternating between tiring himself out with Iwaizumi and spending hours of daylight with Yuki. He was painfully sleepless at night until he hit up Akaashi for a sleeping concoction that knocked him out for a solid nine hours every time he drank it, so he endured the way he had to plug his nose while he did so and ignored the tears that sprang to his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’s this taste like shit, Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi glowered at him, and it almost reminded him of Omi. “I can add sugar if it’s that bothersome for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, it’s fine, but maybe ya should consider makin’ it taste better so customers don’t think yer killin’ ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu made a show of gagging around the mouthful of bitter liquid, and almost spit it out when Akaashi said, unamused, “I know for a fact you’ve swallowed worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shouyou was less than helpful, the embodiment of optimism when he wasn’t busy sucking his face with his surly boyfriend. Oikawa was better, the grim set of his mouth proving he had the same doubts as Atsumu but wasn’t cruel enough to voice them around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto and Akaashi were surprisingly helpful. In addition to the sleep tonic, Akaashi took Atsumu aside during one of his visits to the shop (the fuck else was he supposed to be doing, sitting on his thumbs?) and showed him some of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>calming </span>
  </em>
  <span>plants. Akaashi said it with a serene smirk, and Atsumu later realized that it was because the plants were calming, yes, but also made him high as a kite, which Akaashi undoubtedly found funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though it might have been in part due to the fact that Atsumu ate twice what Akaashi recommended for a dose. “I can’t find my hands,” Atsumu whispered into the phone even before Akaashi greeted him. He heard a sigh on the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then how are you holding the phone, Miya.” Atsumu pouted. He hated being called by his last name, how was he supposed to know they weren’t talking to Osamu? He giggled. Nobody would rather talk to Osamu than Atsumu, Atsumu was the greatest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he whispered into the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...with your hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pinched the phone between his shoulder and ear so he could examine the ends of his arms. “How do I know they’re mine, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was silent for a long time. When Atsumu checked the phone, he saw that Akaashi had hung up. Asshole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stuffed the last of his ice cream cone in his mouth and looked about at the fellow park-goers, mostly old couples taking walks and children eating dirt. Yuki, Atlas, and Atsumu were sitting under the gentle shade of a tree at the park, easy despite their shared worries. It was starting to feel like summer, the mornings no longer frosty with cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hot, even in the shade, and Atsumu was glad he wore shorts. He absentmindedly wondered if the pavement would be hot on Atlas’s paws, before deciding it was probably fine. He’d google it later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I turn into a little fly and just check on him?” Yuki asked, pausing with her cone halfway to her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu ruffled his own hair agitatedly. It was a conversation they’d had before, at least twice. “Ya can’t, Yuki. We dunno that they wouldn’t be able to sense ya somehow. Also,” he reached over to flick her nose, “Omi would kill me so dead if he knew I letcha do anythin’ even close to dangerous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scrunched up her nose, but didn’t argue. He didn’t say it out loud, but he felt the same way. Missing Omi was like an itch under his skin, making it hard to swallow sometimes for fear that something had happened. It was dumb. Dumb like caring about anything was dumb, so not really dumb at all. Frustrating, was probably the word he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated how it felt like Omi was already gone for good, like this was the beginning of his life without Omi, after so little time together. A matter of months, really. It was unsettling to realize he’d known Omi for less than a year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got an idea,” Atsumu said, standing and brushing the leaves off his ass. He reached down towards Yuki, but instead of helping her up like she obviously expected, he swiped the last few inches of her cone and shoved it in his mouth around a wolfish grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I was gonna eat that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya </span>
  <em>
    <span>were, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but then I did. Wanna hear my idea or what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glared at him, pouted at Atlas who pouted back, then got up and swatted Atsumu. He dodged it and turned it into a high-five instead, to her irritation. “Yer so annoying,” she huffed, but the worried wrinkle in her brow was gone and a hint of a smile played on her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, Omi thinks so too. Well? Wanna hear or no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes, reminding Atsumu acutely of Omi, then mumbled, “Fine, tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna see or do ya want me to tell ya?” He knelt down so she could scramble back onto his shoulders. She was probably getting too tall for it, but it wasn’t like Atsumu had known her when she was smaller. Atsumu was strong enough, after all, so he carted her around on his shoulders when her feet started to ache, and flipped off anybody who looked at them funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt her pat his head and tug on the strands above his ears to give him horns. She told him he looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>more natural </span>
  </em>
  <span>with horns, whatever that meant. He didn’t want to read into it. Atsumu looped the leash around his arm so he could wrap both hands around her shins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. See, not tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good choice,” he agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The place was close, like everything else in the city, and it only took them twenty minutes to walk. Halfway there, Yuki vaulted off his shoulders (heart-stopping) and walked the rest of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suga had told him about this place, one day during another drunken brunch (it had actually been a while, he realized, since he’d done that with Oikawa - they used to go weekly) and even though the sign on the window claimed it as a great birthday party destination, he figured two bored dudes (Yuki counted, he reckoned, as a ‘bored dude’) could have just as much fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, the smell of paint and chalk greeted them, along with muffled voices from the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, welcome to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Paint Stuff!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>a woman greeted them from behind a tiny desk with an iPad and card reader on it. She sounded bored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hi,” Atsumu said. Yuki glanced up at him. “We wanna...paint stuff.” Yuki sent him a very unimpressed look, but he had a feeling it was for his mediocre greeting rather than for the chosen activity, though either was possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman got them set up and explained everything, the way they could paint any ceramic item they liked and then the shop would fire it for them so they could take it home the week after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu ignored the voice that whispered </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong, wrong, wrong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>inside his head at the thought of enjoying himself while Omi was somewhere, very possibly in agony and probably afraid. There was nothing he could do, and he told it to himself as many times as he needed to feel like it was true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both picked mugs, because “Omi drinks stuff,” Yuki said, and she wasn’t wrong. Atsumu was mostly looking forward to the tiny pleased look he knew Omi would have whenever he picked up a mug Yuki had painted for him. Maybe a personalized coffee mug would be what finally turned Omi into a coffee drinker?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki’s ended up ugly, because she was a child and thought the whole rainbow belonged on one cup. Atsumu might have agreed if it had been an actual rainbow, but it was just an abstract amalgamation of colors that made his eyes throb. He loved it. Omi was going to love it, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mine’s better,” he sneered, but Yuki laughed in his face, clearly disbelieving, and Atsumu hated that she was sort of right because his had turned out pretty ugly as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that bad. Yuki’s was bright and painful, Atsumu’s was covered with stripes that were supposed to be the same size but ended up varying a lot. Also, his lines were about as straight as Atsumu himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now, the finishing touch,” Yuki yelled. She scooped both cups up, grabbed a paint palette and brush, and took off outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck -” Atsumu jumped up to follow, stopping to promise the attendant person they weren’t thieving, and stumbled outside to see Yuki slathering one of Atlas’s paws in paint, then pressing it gingerly to the bottom of the cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oops, that was cute as hell and Atsumu </span>
  <em>
    <span>was not </span>
  </em>
  <span>choking up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” she stated, sounding smug, and Atsumu couldn’t even admonish her for dashing outside because if he’d had the brilliant idea, he would have done the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They paid as they left, and Atsumu received the same look he usually got when he went places with Oikawa. The ‘I’m only smiling at you because it’s my job; you stressed me out and I’m glad you’re leaving’ face, or at least, that was how Atsumu always interpreted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki bent to untie Atlas. Atsumu’s phone buzzed, but he left it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It buzzed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it was buzzing constantly because someone was calling him, and Oikawa’s face popped up when he unlocked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s moving,” Oikawa said, in lieu of a greeting. Atsumu’s blood turned cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he okay?” he asked, feeling breathless. On the ground in front of him, Yuki stopped and looked to him with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s still alive, that’s all I know. It’s split in two now, one staying still and one moving. I gotta call Kuroo, but I wanted to tell you first.” The call ended, and Atsumu stared at his phone until the screen went black and all he could see was his own reflection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki was the one who took his phone, gently, and slipped it into his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go time?” She asked. Atsumu nodded faintly, and Yuki nodded back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya better get him, Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He intended to. The whole way back to the shelter, they held hands. Occasionally one would squeeze and the other would reciprocate, but they were silent, both in their heads. When he dropped her off, she turned to him and said, “But...You be safe too, ‘kay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course, dude. I’m always safe.” That was a bald-faced lie, but he didn’t want to make her anxiety even worse. Still, though, he appreciated that she cared enough to say it. He ruffled her hair affectionately. “We’ll be back before ya know it. Both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hoped he was right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he was walking home, he got a text.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: don’t do anything yet, we gotta check out where the blood went and make sure its the right place. Cant fuck everything up by jumping the gun.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: fuck that</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands were shaking. Kuroo couldn’t be asking what it sounded like he was asking, right? Surely, he didn’t mean to leave Omi in that place any longer now that they’d taken his blood?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: I’m serious, Atsumu. Stay put. We’ll text u.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: what about Omi</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: this is the priority, and sakusa isn’t in any more danger now than he was before. he understands that.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had a very strong urge to chuck his phone into oncoming traffic, but he didn’t. Instead, he clenched his hands in his shorts pockets and walked faster home because the faster he got home, the faster he could drop Atlas off and book it to the gym to burn off the impatient anger coiling in his muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only realized he was stomping when the cobblestones under his feet started to complain about his ‘elephant feet’. “Since when can you guys feel shit?” he muttered, and they got louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was right, though. Omi would not try to teleport out until he was positive they had what they needed, which was why they were planning on sending someone to break Omi out rather than just have him escape on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Best case scenario, they would give him a signal and he would teleport away. Worse case, they would have something to prevent Omi from doing so, and they would need to get him themselves. Worst case, - nevermind, he didn’t want to think about it anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi wasn’t at his gym for once when Atsumu got there, but Ymir was, and she was just as good. Maybe even better, if only because she was less inclined to check on his emotional state before sparring with him with everything she had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, Ymir, it’s been a while,” Atsumu greeted, approaching her where she was spotting some rando on the bench press.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jerked her chin at him. “‘Sup, Atsumu.” Turning back to the guy struggling to lift the bar, she drawled, “Come on, you did more than this last week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had to hold back a chuckle, but only because the guy looked like one rude observer was enough. The guy choked and his elbows collapsed, but Ymir was there to grab it, biceps bulging with the weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just here to watch?” Ymir asked Atsumu with a quiet, amused scoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up. Take a turn with me?” he asked, not even embarrassed to be made fun of because at the moment his hands were still clenched into fists in his pockets and all he could think about was Omi, and the text, and the fact that he couldn’t do anything -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Sure. Connie,” she sneered down at the guy, who was still breathing hard, “I’m leaving, find someone else to help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ymir was faster than Iwaizumi, but not quite as strong. It usually meant that Atsumu left their matches way more tired but in slightly less pain. Her intensity was perfect for his current mood - it meant he didn’t have two seconds to think about anything but the woman in front of him, his fists guarding his face, and the grunts and huffs of their fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even when she beat him for the fifth time in a row, all he could feel was gratitude that she hadn’t gone easy on him despite his obvious foul mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat some ice cream or something,” she threw over her shoulder as Atsumu wobbled to the showers, “You look dumb when you’re grumpy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flipped her off, but she had already turned her back with a half-wave as she made her way back to the weight corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He followed her advice - first, he called Osamu and begged him for leftovers to steal, but then he stopped by a convenience store and grabbed as many tiny tubs of ice cream as he could carry. He didn’t know whether he was going to eat all of them that night, but it wouldn’t hurt to have extras.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlas was more affectionate when he got back, and Atsumu let himself smile at the realization that Atlas used to cower when Atsumu was emotional and now he butted his head against Atsumu’s thigh or sat on him on the couch or curled up in his bed with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Atsumu peeled the top off of one container of ice cream (lavender, because it reminded him of Omi, and made him want to cry - what the hell, it wasn’t like Omi was dead) Atlas stood in between his feet, very much in the way but cutely and forgivingly so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t turn on the tv, just sat on the couch with his dog and ate his sad ice cream. He wanted to be happy and carefree, he decided. After this, he’d like to be done with big depressing things for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was not to say he didn’t think this work was important, or that he didn’t want to help the fae. Of course he did. It would just be nice to be able to spend some down days with Omi, like a mini non-marriage honeymoon, before they went back to bounty hunting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fae situation, (as he’d been calling it in his head because the word ‘trafficking’ made his stomach hurt, especially after what he’d seen) would be resolved after this, or so everyone was assuming, which would leave more room for his relationship. And things like joy and self-care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded nice, he thought. Maybe it would mean more days like he’d been having with Yuki, but next time Omi would be there too, reprimanding them with his scowls and rewarding them with his huffs of laughter. Yeah. That sounded nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if everything went according to plan, his little dream of the future could come true. Just like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzed under his butt when he was most of the way through the pint and had been staring at the wall so long his eyes were burning. Oops.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: we have it. tomorrow night we’ll take em down and get sakusa. meet here tomorrow morning for planning. dw about sakusa - we’ll get him.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t have to ask to know where “here” was - even if Kuroo and Kenma hadn’t been living with Akaashi and Bokuto, the way things were going, it seemed like they would have been spending all their time there anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was relieved and anxious all over again, but for a different reason now. Whereas before, he’d been stressed about leaving Omi, now he was stressed about getting him. There were so many things that could go wrong, he didn’t even want to list them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No negative thinking,” he murmured to Atlas, who looked up at him with soft brown eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” Atsumu said, more to himself than the dog. “It’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to fall asleep that night, the bed too big and cold, but he did, once it started raining softly and the pattering of the water on his window lulled him to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re splitting up, like we planned before. This is a last check-in, but obviously text the group chat if anything changes,” Kuroo began, after they were all there. The atmosphere was tangibly different; last time, they’d been drinking and goofing off. This time, even Shouyou looked serious from his perch behind Oikawa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small apartment was full - Skag had brought along Mei, and the two looked visibly uncomfortable in the corner, though it probably helped that they weren’t the only fae in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skag and their guys are in charge of taking out the rest of the warehouses we’re aware of. There aren’t many left. Atsumu and Oikawa will be getting Sakusa out. Bokuto, Kenma, Hinata, and myself will be going to the headquarters.” There were scattered nods, but nobody spoke. Kuroo hadn’t mentioned Akaashi, but he figured they had it sorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo continued. “We’re hitting HQ first, so they don’t have time to catch wind. We’ll send a text, and that’s your cue to get all the captives from their respective captors. Good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence while everyone was presumably digesting the information, but Atsumu was just vibrating in his seat, then Skag leaned forward and said, “What are we doing with the captives after we’ve gotten them out? We’ve been sending them to the shelters, but depending on how many there are that might not work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo gave a considering hum, but Kenma spoke up before he could. “Some of them have homes they can return to, and families. And lots of the people we saved are willing to take in new survivors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skag nodded, seeming satisfied. That was one part of the plan Atsumu had little to do with, so he wasn’t too worried about the details.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sat back. “Well, that’s about it. You all know the details, but now is the time to voice concerns. But I want to stress that these people are professionals; be safe, and don’t show mercy. I don’t care how many people you have to kill - they deserve it anyway. Just get rid of the bodies or don’t leave evidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were hard, jaw set tight, and Atsumu wondered for the first time how many people Kuroo had lost to this particular fight already. Because as stupid as he felt only realizing it now, the answer was probably more than one. Beside him, Bokuto reached out and knocked his fist lightly against Kuroo’s knee. Kuroo brought his own hand down, swiping his thumb lightly over Bokuto’s wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu turned to Oikawa, who was already looking at him. His face was a little pale, but his gaze was steady and heavy. As much as Oikawa disliked Omi, Atsumu knew he would do everything in his power to make sure he made it out safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The time between the meeting and nightfall existed only as a blur to Atsumu. He moved through it all like a ghost, thinking only of the night ahead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, his phone buzzed, and it was time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was already at Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s. The three were just sitting around the kitchen table in silence, interrupted occasionally by Iwaizumi asking a clarifying point or Oikawa telling them that Omi still hadn’t moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why isn’t he teleporting out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He will, if he can. All we know is that the building is downtown, we don’t know where he is inside it. If we can see him, he can teleport. But we still have to go find him, first,” Oikawa explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa had a car, a fact which Atsumu frequently forgot since he himself walked everywhere and Oikawa was one of the only people he knew who had ever considered anything different. It was probably good, though, to have the extra mobility just in case.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: we’re going in. wait 20 then go.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The car was a bubble of tense silence as Oikawa drove, and the anxiety ratcheted up even further when they parked two blocks down from a nondescript office building. Atsumu sent a questioning look to Oikawa, but he just shrugged. “Basement, I think” Oikawa murmured, even though they were inside a car and safe from prying ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s muscles were tense, he couldn’t help it, and one foot was jiggling uncontrollably. He tasted the tang of blood when he bit too hard on the inside of his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fine,” Iwaizumi said, which actually did make Atsumu feel slightly better even though it wasn’t a promise. They were so close - so close to everything being right again, close to ending this whole nightmare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten minutes,” Oikawa said, glancing down at his watch. It looked out of place - the shiny blue face of it at odds with what they were about to do. If Atsumu could just calm down, all they had to do was wait a few more minutes, and he could go get Omi out of there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gun was a comforting weight in his pocket. They could do this, everything would be fine. It was a good plan. Omi just had to hold on a little longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was silent in the car, and silent outside. The waiting was torture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Oikawa’s breath hitched. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered, looking horrified, as the blood drained from his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Atsumu and Iwaizumi asked in tandem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Sakusa,” he choked out, eyes wide with panic, “we gotta go, we gotta -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was out the door before he could ask a follow up question. Fuck Kuroo’s time limit, if something was happening, a few minutes wouldn’t change the plan, but could mean all the difference to Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friends’ footsteps were quiet on the sidewalk behind him as they ran towards the still-dark building. By the time they reached the wide double glass doors, Atsumu’s whole body felt cold with fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to hurry,” Oikawa said, “something’s happening, I can’t - I can’t tell, Atsumu, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I think he’s dying.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of glass shattering and spilling across the floor faded into the background - Iwaizumi’s wrapped fist retreated, and Atsumu ducked inside. He felt his pocket buzz. A few moments later and he’d found the stairs, he was running now, his phone buzzed again. Then again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside of the building was dark, all the lights turned off, and the dim light from outside reflected off the shiny marble floors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever was happening, he didn’t have time to look at his buzzing phone. He had one goal, and it was his Omi, hurt, somewhere inside - if only Atsumu could get to him in time. It felt like every nightmare was coming true, that he’d be too late, but he banished the thoughts from his head in favor of paying attention to what was in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he wasn’t a healer. His thoughts raced, trying to plan for a future he couldn’t see. His footsteps were loud on the stairs but he didn’t care. Whatever was wrong, chances were Atsumu wouldn’t be able to fix it. But Bokuto could - why was Bokuto with the others, instead of here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa pointed him down a long, unlit hallway. He sprinted, breath coming ragged with fear in his lungs. He didn’t think to be quiet as he bolted down the hall, eyes searching frantically for a room, something to indicate where Omi might have been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of the hallway, a metal door stood dark against the cement walls. Oikawa nodded, and Iwaizumi took the spot at the front. Rearing back, he slammed his foot into the door, close to the handle. It dented, but didn’t budge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Atsumu could tell him there was no use, it was impossible, they had to find another way, Iwaizumi screwed up his face and kicked again - this time, the bolt broke and the door swung open, slamming into the wall on the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Atsumu had the presence of mind, he’d confront Iwaizumi for lying about his apparent super-strength, but that was going to have to wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was quiet in the room. “Omi?” Atsumu called, advancing more slowly this time, with his gun drawn. He heard someone flick the lightswitch, but no light came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was darker than dark, underground as they were with no lights. Their footsteps were hesitant on the cold concrete, the only sound disturbing the stillness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room smelled bad, that was the most obvious thing about it. Like decay, and blood. Just like last time. Dread was starting to take root in Atsumu’s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi?” he called again. It was too eerie, too suspicious. Atsumu’s whole body was tensed for a trap that hadn’t yet sprung. “He’s here,” Oikawa whispered. Then why wasn’t he responding? Despite himself, Atsumu felt shaky with fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, so faint he could barely hear it, came the sound of dripping. It was fast, a near-constant stream of drops, like someone had left a faucet on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, Oikawa fumbled for his phone, then his flashlight was illuminating the scene in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dripping wasn’t water. It was blood, dripping from the tip of a finger on a body suspended upside down from the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was wearing the same t-shirt he’d been wearing when he left, though the white was dirty and torn in places, and his hair was caked with dirt and blood and grease. Omi was hanging by hooks through his ankles, and there was a large pool of blood on the ground beneath him, growing by the second, fed by a deep cut in each dangling wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dull silver collar circled his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was one other body, slumped on the floor. Oikawa hurried over. “Dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t hesitate - he dropped his gun right in the blood on the floor, ignoring the way it splattered red onto his pants, and reached out to Omi. His skin had some warmth. And there, beneath Atsumu’s fingers, he felt the faint thump of a heartbeat. The others were right behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They got him down together, Iwaizumi yanked the hooks from the beams but didn’t pull them from Omi’s ankles. Omi’s body was colder than it should have been. Then Atsumu and Oikawa were at each wrist, doing what they could to put pressure. It didn’t do much - the cuts were deep, and vertical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It scared Atsumu how slow the blood was coming - weak pulses, rather than the gushing he knew it should have been. Omi’s chest rose in quick, shallow breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck, Omi,” he groaned, searching for something to wrap his wrists in. He didn’t respond, unconscious. His skin was the wrong color, too pale and sickly, and there was no resistance in his limbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hospital,” Oikawa gritted out, pulling off his whole shirt instead of trying to rip it, to wrap tightly around the arm he held. His knuckles were white. There was blood everywhere - on their faces, their hands, their feet. On Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t ya do anythin’? Ya have blood magic,” Atsumu begged, but the wild look in Oikawa’s eyes answered his question for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to get him to the hospital.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, they got him into the car. They didn’t run across anybody else in the building, captive or otherwise. They must have known, but Atsumu didn’t understand how. He tried not to think about who had left Omi like that, and where they were now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took all of them to carry Omi, then Oikawa slid into the drivers’ seat as Iwaizumi and Atsumu cradled Omi in the back, doing what they could to stop the bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu comforted himself in the knowledge that Omi was still alive, his heart was still beating, a weak flutter every time Atsumu checked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until it wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His pulse had stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi wasn’t breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body was completely still, his face pale under the shifting light of the street lamps as Oikawa broke the speed limit, the spots of blood dark in the shadows of his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Atsumu croaked, shifting to press his fingers against Omi’s neck only to confirm it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway to the hospital, Omi was dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi, no, it’ll - be okay, just don’t die, Kiyoomi, please don’t,” Atsumu mumbled, fingers moving over Omi’s skin in gentle brush strokes. It didn’t matter, Omi’s skin stayed cold and unresponsive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It might not be too late,” Iwaizumi spoke, his voice rough. Oikawa was silent in the front seat, jaw tight and foot heavy on the gas. The lights outside were a blur, and up ahead, Atsumu could see the glowing red of the Emergency Room sign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Atsumu had no hope left. Omi - well, Sakusa now. The nickname hurt too much, and what was the point of Sakusa wasn’t even around to hear it? Sakusa was dead, his body was already cooling, his blood was congealing, and Atsumu knew it was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There would be no future for them, just the gaping hole that had already ripped itself into Atsumu’s heart. His only thought, as two hospital employees pulled Sakusa’s lifeless body from Atsumu’s clutches and onto a gurney, was how he was supposed to tell Yuki that Sakusa would never be her dad. Would never be anything but a memory, for them both.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed in the waiting room anyway, waving off the employees that came to make sure the blood covering them wasn’t their own. Every time, Atsumu asked about Sakusa, and was met with silence. Every time he heard someone murmur “Dead on arrival,” he flinched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa accepted a call next to them. Atsumu was glad it wasn’t him talking to Kuroo - he knew he would yell. He would tell Kuroo it was his fault, that they shouldn’t have involved Sakusa at all, let alone allow him to take all the risk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn’t Kuroo on the other side, he noticed when Oikawa put it on speaker and Kenma’s scratchy voice came from the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They didn’t know we were coming,” he said, followed by a shaky inhale, “they couldn’t have. But - ” he stopped. His voice, when he spoke again, was normal again. Bored, even. “Skag was able to save most of the people they were supposed to, but some - a lot died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t really care why it went wrong - the fact that it did was enough. Suddenly he was tired. Bone-deep, catatonically tired. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He kept listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They couldn’t have known we were coming, but they were ready anyway. Kuroo -” his voice got shaky again, “Kuroo barely made it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A distant part of Atsumu’s brain wondered; if Bokuto had come with them instead, would Sakusa be alive? Would he make that trade, if he could?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s done?” Oikawa asked, voicing Atsumu’s thought as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma sighed. “Yeah, we got him. Them, I guess. The guy and his people. If he was so well prepared, I don’t get why he was even there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arrogance?” Oikawa guessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who knows. But - yeah. It’s over. Is Sakusa still - ?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Oikawa answered, glancing over at Atsumu. He must have updated Kenma on the situation. “We don’t know yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Text with any updates, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu snatched the phone. “If he dies, can ya bring him back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hesitation. “Probably not.” Atsumu closed his eyes tight. “The best place for him is the hospital.” Atsumu didn’t know the specifics of Kenma’s necro-powers, but he believed that if there was anything the shorter man could do, he would. He ended the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, where are you going?” Iwaizumi asked, when Atsumu stood and grabbed his jacket. He was still covered with blood, he could smell it on him, and he was tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Sakusa was dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya can wait here for them to tell ya what we already know, but I’m leavin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he turned and stalked out the door, not missing the way Oikawa held Iwaizumi back from following him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t go home. He didn’t want to feel warm and safe, when Sakusa’s body was lying still and cold in some room in the hospital. Had they cut into him? Had they tried to fill him with someone else’s blood? What kind of magic did the doctors have, and what were the chances it was enough to change what happened? Had they even tried, or had they set him aside in favor of tending to patients with an actual chance at survival?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like Shouyou dying all over again, but with proof this time, and in the beginning of a relationship instead of after its end. Atsumu ached. His eyes were dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The summer warmth lingered in the air even as it approached early morning, but the alleyways he picked his way through were as dank and cool as ever. He wandered, eyes half-closed, into a convenience store, to buy a pack of the cigarettes he hadn’t smoked in years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lit the first one in between two buildings that were so tall he couldn’t see the tops, even with the city light haze above. Where he was, on the ground, the cobblestones were rounded and smooth. He could hear water trickling in a storm drain nearby even though it hadn’t rained in days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wall he leaned against was made of rocks and mortar, but shifted to brick higher up, then glass. The old stones murmured, but for once he didn’t listen to what they were saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lit the second one after lying down on the cold ground, ignoring the moisture that seeped from the moss into his clothes, and the cold that felt like it skipped his skin and went straight to his bones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wished he could see the stars, but he couldn’t - just darkness, and scattered lightness, that blurred when his vision finally swam with tears that didn’t fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked that the discomfort in his body took his attention away from his feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to feel anything, let alone the toxic swirl that was occupying his chest. He couldn’t fix it, couldn’t change anything, not what happened, and certainly not how he felt about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he lit a third cigarette that he only smoked halfway before feeling like he’d puke, then stuffed it into a hole in the mortar where something pulled it from his fingers into the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How should I know,” he answered the grandfather stone behind him. “Piss off.” The stone did not piss off, but what it said next had Atsumu freezing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was one question answered, at least. He’d take care of it tomorrow - hunt down the men who’d escaped, kill them for what they’d done. He thanked the stone, knowing they usually preferred to stay out of human matters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about going home. He thought about sleeping, alone. He tried to check the time but his phone was dead, not that it really mattered. What message could he possibly get that would make him feel any different?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tomorrow, he’d pick up Atlas, and visit Yuki. Tomorrow, he’d thank Oikawa for staying at the hospital and filling out the paperwork when Atsumu couldn’t. Wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for now, he stood up and shook the chill from his body, and started walking again. He threw away the mostly-full pack of cigarettes in the bin by the hospital and went inside again, with low expectations.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:(</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Stone Cold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kuroo is speechless. Atsumu isn't.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>content warning forrr: medical inaccuracies (so many, probably, idk), mediocre action writing (it's hard, okay), gore and horror and blood and torture (what else are u here for tho), death (oop), stress and angst (yay)</p><p>Hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He had done everything he was supposed to. He’d stayed put, let them take his blood, kept his head down even when it meant doing nothing when their captors hurt someone else. It had been unnatural, trusting near-strangers with his safety, but it was for a cause. It mattered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing that kept him from panicking was the knowledge that Atsumu was waiting for him. Atsumu would get him out safe. Atsumu would save him, make the pain stop. Atsumu would take him home and love him the way Sakusa wanted to be loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was drugged, lethargic and dizzy from a combination of drugs and blood loss, when they came for him out of the blue. He didn’t know how long he’d been trapped in the basement, weeks perhaps, but he felt it in the weakness of his body, the roughness in his throat, and the constant pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on,” he tried to ask, but the words were mangled by his uncooperative lips. Was Atsumu coming soon? He tried to remember the plan, but couldn’t. He couldn’t remember anything. The drugs answered why so few fae had managed to escape - the disorientation, confusion, and pain made moving difficult. Let alone thinking and planning. He couldn’t even tell time, just ate when they made him and shuffled to the chair with the straps when they wanted to stick needles in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It started with a phone call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One moment he and his cellmate, Tia, were trying not to fall asleep sitting up against the bars, the next moment, people were shouting and the basement was a frenzy of activity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa knew something was wrong, through his sleepy daze, when the man in the lab coat called in the guards from outside and spoke to them in hushed voices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t right - he was supposed to sit tight until Atsumu came. He knew he was supposed to wait, but the men were approaching, and he didn’t know what would come next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tia, next to him, patted his leg. He nodded. Whatever was about to happen, it would be bad. He knew he was supposed to wait, but if it came down to it, he would do what he could to save his fellow captives if things went wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There weren’t many; four including him. The two in the other cell had been there longer, faces gaunt and skin sallow with blood loss and emaciation. Tia was newer, like him. Sakusa could only tell because the look in her eyes was still haunted, not vacant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that he knew any of them well, even though they’d been trapped here together. They didn’t talk - they barely interacted at all, other than to huddle for warmth in the cool basement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was disconcerting how dead they already acted, how all of them were too drugged up to do much of anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched a guard slip his hand into his vest, where he kept his gun, and Tia tensed next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t have time to plan, but Tia knew what he was capable of. Sakusa pointed to the collar on his neck, the one blocking his magic. Tia understood - they had talked about it before, and now they had to hope it would work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head was swimming, it was hard to stay awake. The collars were too strong for one fae to break, but two could do it. They had to. Tia pulled one half, Sakusa the other, and it snapped with a sharp noise, easier than Sakusa had expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps their captors were relying too much on the drugs to keep them docile. For the most part, it worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Faster than the guard could point and shoot, Sakusa gripped Tia’s hand, reached through the bars to grab someone from the next cell, and teleported to the street above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head split, his vision blurred. He vomited. “Run,” he gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was night time, but still warm out. The breeze tickled his face, lifted a strand of grimy hair. Sakusa wanted to go with them. The dissonance of the three of them standing, bloody and hurt and dazed, in the middle of a city where people were settling in to sleep, or working too late, or drinking made Sakusa’s fingers itch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pain like he’d never known was throbbing behind his eyes, up his spine. He wasn’t sure he would survive teleporting another person, but he had to try. He considered leaving with them, getting out while he could, but he remembered the defeated look in the man’s eyes and he burned with rage just long enough to make up his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tia shook her head, eyes wide and glassy. She drifted on her feet. “Sakusa you can’t go back,” she started to say, but Sakusa didn’t hear the rest. He ignored the pain in his body and went.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were ready for him. Even before he’d opened his eyes back in the basement, he was being tasered. Another collar replaced the last one. His vision was blurry and his eyes couldn’t focus on the same thing, he felt sick, and by the time he got his eyes to cooperate, it was far, far too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was upside down, he’d lost time, his blood felt like fire. Lenny, the one he’d come back to save, was already dead. He had a moment to regret his choice. His eyes slipped closed on their own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he would die. He knew that help was on the way, and he knew they would be too late. So he dreamed, before he lost consciousness forever. Would he go somewhere, in death? He’d always wondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were at the park, at the annual summer festival. Later, there would be live music drifting across the lawn, but for now, it was hot and sticky. Yuki had an ice cream, and Atsumu was trying to bribe her with piggyback rides for half of her cone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could smell the street food from the vendors, he could taste the icecream kiss he’d shared with Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was soft. He was comfortable, more comfortable than he could ever remember being, as he watched the sunlight filter across his lover’s face. He watched Yuki tilt a blinding smile up at him, gesturing emphatically with her hands while she told him a story. He felt Atsumu’s hand slip into his own. He ached.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>* * * *</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was ready, his eyes sharp and fingers tingling with anticipation. He’d been looking forward to this. They’d done this so much that it was familiar now. Kuroo led the way, Bokuto by his side, with Kenma and Hinata behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t worried. They had good intel, and they hadn’t lost a fight to Mount Doom yet. After tonight, it would be over. This nightmare that had consumed Kuroo, turning him into a vigilante murderer while he let violence and revenge dictate his life, was about to end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It mattered - what he was doing mattered. He was saving lives, fighting a harm so foul it made his stomach turn. But it was eating him up, too. So many had died. Friends, fighters, strangers, all fae.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carried the evidence on his body - too thin, too many scars, too twitchy, too tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon was half-full in the sky, and the sleeping city had enough light pollution that they could see, even here, in this alley behind the building that housed so much evil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sent a text out, and it all began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a high-rise, a business building, because of course it was. There was a bank on the first floor, but their prey was much higher up. Higher than he could see, even. Getting up there was the first challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lobby was closed, and dark, but the doors were open. That was suspicious, but not too unusual. Some buildings stayed open overnight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They bypassed the empty lobby easily, despite the cameras. It was all Hinata. His magic had saved them from more situations than Kuroo cared to remember. Recruiting him, so long ago, had ultimately been a very good idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His was illusion magic, capable of bending light. Which is why when they walked inside, Hinata looked like a man they’d watched leave this place two days before and the other three were invisible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No talking now, and soft steps. They could still be heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Excitement wasn’t the right word. Kuroo wasn’t excited, but he did look forward to what he was about to do. Years of pain and suffering, unquantifiable, was about to end. If he enjoyed it along the way, that was all right. It was easier than sorting through the complicated emotions of murdering bad people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata’s fake face got them past the elevator’s biometrics, and then it was minutes of silence while they rode up to one of the top floors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could hear the whir of the elevator, the breaths of his friends, and the faint buzz of the fluorescent light above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could smell his own sweat. Beside him, Kenma brushed his knuckles against Kuroo’s hand. He pressed back. They didn’t have to talk about it, they never did, always preemptively on the same page about the dangers of their choice to see this to the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t have done this alone, for so many reasons. He knew the toll was great - on both of them. Kenma’s paralyzing nightmares of those he’d brought back were bad. The nightmares about the ones he couldn’t bring back were even worse. But here they both stood, at the end of it all. Alive, despite the universe’s best attempts to kill them both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes it felt like they were the only good things in the world, the only ones with their eyes open. Around them, so many people bumbled through their lives with no idea of the evils that lurked in the shadows. Kuroo knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how he was so lucky, to have a best friend and lover like Kenma. It made sense that they were here, together, finishing what they’d started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they weren’t alone, anymore. They had Hinata, and Bokuto, and everyone else helping. Kuroo couldn’t have imagined, so long ago, that it would be anything but him and Kenma against the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost anticlimactic, he thought, to be standing here before the end, watching numbers tick upwards into the hundreds on the screen in the corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the door was opening with a ding, and they were stepping out into the hallway. “Okay,” Hinata whispered, indicating he’d dropped the illusion. Kuroo had half-expected immediate violence, like they’d been waiting, but it was quiet. It was more than likely they were already aware of Nekoma’s presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But did they know Kuroo intended to end it, tonight? He just had to hope they hadn’t vacated - he knew relying on their arrogance was risky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They split up, two each way down the hall. “Yoohoo,” Hinata called, speeding down the corridor. For such a bright kid, he sure had a bloodlust that rivaled their enemies’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo could light the whole place on fire, but that was dangerous for everyone and he wanted to make sure the bosses were here for sure before bringing everything down. His fingers crackled faintly with sparks all the same. Beside him, Kenma swatted his hand gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first room they came across was for storage. Glass-front fridges lined the walls. Inside, the fridges were full of rows and rows of vials of blood. Kuroo clenched his jaw, trying to keep the anger down. Looked like Oikawa was right, at least, about this being the place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he’d been doubting, but the confirmation was nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to ignore the anger beginning to unfurl in his stomach at the reminder of the reality they were fighting, but he’d always been more hotheaded than Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was only one other room, after the one full of blood. The door was cracked. Inside it was dim, but Kuroo could make out rows of dusty desks and old computers, like nobody had actually used it in years. His ears knew better, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was quiet, but beneath that, Kuroo could hear the buzz of the lights and Kenma beside him. Even quieter than that, was the sound of quick breathing and careful footsteps at the back end of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud gunshot fractured the silence, and he heard commotion from the direction Hinata and Bokuto had gone, more gunshots and yelling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steeling himself, Kuroo eased through the open door. Kenma was close behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d barely stepped into the room when it happened - one moment Kuroo was treading gently, preparing for a fight, and the next he was doubled over as a searing pain whipped across his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuro!” Kenma gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even see what hit him, just felt the blinding pain as it cut through the front of his neck. He tried to talk but couldn’t, and when he looked down, he saw torrents of blood gushing from his sliced neck, down his front, to stain the office carpet below in thick, warm puddles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were bulging, aware of how his heartbeat kicked into panic and sent blood spilling even faster, but he couldn’t -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His vision swam. It was hard to breathe. He couldn’t lose consciousness, he needed to finish this, not die before it was over. He used his fire magic, like a torch from his finger, to cauterize the wound. Pain, sharper than before, seared from his wound and throbbed throughout his whole body. He felt faint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel his throat burning, smell his flesh, but the blood stopped and his hands shook with the realization that he wasn’t dead, yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to talk, choked instead, and used his last bit of energy to ignite the whole room. He almost wished he were unconscious, because then he wouldn’t be able to feel his skin blistering and his mind fraying from the pain. Kenma ducked under his arm with a curse to help stabilize him. Instead of leaving, though, they stumbled through the beginnings of the fire, towards the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were only three men, coughing from the smoke as the carpet caught fire and plastic began to burn. Their eyes widened in fear. Two were wearing lab coats - scientists, maybe, but not the big bad. The third looked like a bodyguard, and had knives strapped to his body. That explained his neck, Kuroo thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the older scientist spat. Around them, more things were starting to catch fire. The computers made high, sharp whines and pops as they became engulfed. The already dark room was growing crowded with smoke and the smell of burning chemicals, but the fire illuminated the men’s faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Killing you, and your project,” Kenma replied. He raised his gun. Kuroo could do little but watch, leaning on a desk instead of Kenma. The guard guy moved, then, and Kuroo barely saw it as he whipped a knife through the air, aimed straight for Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma didn’t have time to react, there was no way -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo’s hand moved before he was aware of it, shoving Kenma just enough that the knife sliced his arm, instead of his chest. Kenma’s gun clattered to the ground from his limp arm, and Kuroo saw his teeth bare in irritation. Before the man could let loose another knife, Kenma snatched ducked to grab his gun again with the other hand, letting his right arm dangle uselessly as blood started to stain his shirt. Kenma’s teeth were gritted, his grip steady as it raised the gun again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo didn’t like how fast the blood stain was spreading, down past his elbow now. A trickle of blood emerged below his sleeve to run down his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it again and you’re dead,” Kenma rasped. He coughed. Knife man raised his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The oldest man didn’t look scared, but he did look irritated. “I don’t think you understand,” he said, hands outstretched in a placating motion. “This blood could change everything. It could be an energy source, it can store magic, we don’t even know -” Kenma shot him in the forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man held his hands up. He was shaking. “Wait, wait, wait! I’ll stop the project, I can pay you, you don’t have to kill me.” Kenma lifted the gun again, but Kuroo put a hand on it to lower it. He jerked his head towards the other room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, the pain in Kuroo’s throat was only growing. He lifted a hand to gently cradle his oozing wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was that the boss?” Kenma asked, kicking the body of the old man in front of him. Lab coat guy shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He gestured toward the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma tilted his head, and the man seemed to know what would come because he sneered and said, “Shooting me won’t save anyone. The men have their orders.” Kenma raised an eyebrow, Kuroo dipped his head weakly, and Kenma shot the guy in the face. It didn’t erase the rotten smirk on his face, now frozen in death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t have time to think about what that meant, not now. But Kuroo had a sinking feeling that they’d played this wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Kuroo slumped against a wall. The smoke was getting thicker, and maybe he shouldn’t have lit everything on fire, but it was too late now. The room was hot, Kuroo could feel beads of sweat running down his chest and back, and they’d all be dead soon if they didn’t get out in the next few minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just work here,” the last guy said, glancing over his shoulder, hands shaking, as if there were an exit behind him. His body, when it hit the floor, made a more solid thud than the other two had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wound to Kuroo’s throat probably should have killed him. It still could, if he wasn’t careful. Hopefully, Bokuto would be able to do enough that he wouldn’t have to visit the hospital. Together they stumbled back out, Kenma pulling Kuroo forward even though Kuroo wanted to stop and rest, if just for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire would take care of the bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Kenma was functioning and mostly unhurt. If one of the others, or Kuroo, had died, Kenma might have been able to resurrect them. It wasn’t easy, and it took a toll, but it was possible. Sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Kuroo would rather not find out if there was a limit to how many times one person could be resurrected from the dead, and he didn’t much like dying. It was better to just survive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata and Bokuto were still busy, it sounded like, but Kuroo was dizzy with pain and he could feel blood seeping out around the fingers he still had clutched around his neck. His breaths were shallow wheezes, but he was still awake, somehow. He leaned up against the wall and tried not to close his eyes while Kenma searched the blood room for stragglers. It was empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ride down the elevator felt like it took forever. When they reached the ground floor, a man was just rounding the bottom of the staircase and sprinting for the door. Kenma shot him in the back and Kuroo didn’t think about what their body count was now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo tried to speak again, but nothing came out. Black spots were dancing and throbbing in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t tell if the darkness drifting over him was his eyes closing, or something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sat on the cold concrete and cradled his neck, the other arm wrapped around Kenma’s leg. His breath was coming in shallow pants. Every movement sent pain radiating from his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard Kenma call someone. It rang, over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He called again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Hinata and Bokuto made it back down, they could hear sirens in the distance. Smoke was billowing out the window of the floor they were on, but they could barely see the glow from way down on the street. The four of them were tucked in an alley, and the only reason Kenma and Kuroo hadn’t tried to get a head start was that Kuroo couldn’t stand without almost blacking out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was fading in and out of consciousness, but he could see wide grins on both Hinata and Bokuto’s faces. He thought, not for the first time, that perhaps they shouldn’t enjoy this violence as much as they did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo knew for a fact that half the reason Bokuto didn’t bounty hunt anymore was the way killing made him feel. Akaashi had told him, in a quiet voice during one of their early-morning chats, that Bokuto was afraid of himself. Afraid of how easy it was for him to kill people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost ironic, that a man with healing powers could be so comfortably violent. Hinata was the same, soaking up rage and despair like a sponge from the air around him, turning murder into some kind of game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo wished he felt the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, violence made him sick. He couldn’t remember - maybe in the beginning, he hadn’t minded. But over time it lost its novelty, and now murder and gore were just part of his life. Part he didn’t want any part of, anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto fixed up his neck a little bit, but they saved the rest of the healing and first aid for when they got home. Bokuto and Hinata only had minor injuries, both more focused on Kuroo himself than their own bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata begged off halfway there to go to his own house, a skip in his step and a satisfied twinkle in his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was prepared, when they came home, with their first aid kid and an assortment of funny looking plants that Kuroo didn’t get to tease him about before he wobbled through the doorway and slouched against the wall. Kenma must have texted him. He didn’t look good. His mouth was a tight line, his eyes dark and shadowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo didn’t know why, didn’t know anything suddenly, because he finally slipped out of consciousness now that he knew he was safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>* * * *</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t feel anything, just knew he was drifting...somewhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he was warmer, but still cold in a way that felt like it would never leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was at a park, with Atsumu.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s hands were on his face, soft, his thumb brushing Sakusa’s cheekbone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was watching Yuki scrunch her nose up at Atsumu’s coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was asleep, next to Atsumu.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was warm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa woke up slowly, like dragging himself out of the grave with numb hands and feeling sunshine on his face for the first time in years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if I just smack him right in the face?” someone was whispering, the moment Sakusa’s brain drifted from sleep into consciousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t feel real. The last thing he remembered was knowing he would die, then a long period of darkness. How was he here, feeling things? Hearing things?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it,” someone else whispered back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” that whisper was almost a voice, filled with mischief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, the asshole deserves it. Smack him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had a headache. Actually, everything ached. He wanted to go back to sleep. At least he didn’t hurt anymore. Last time he’d been awake, everything had burned and ached and throbbed with pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do ya think it’ll wake him up though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then a small hand was smoothing across Sakusa’s face, poking an eyebrow, before lifting up and slamming back down with a sharp </span>
  <em>
    <span>slap </span>
  </em>
  <span>on his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa whined, too out of it to really respond but awake enough that he could voice his displeasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Omi?” came Atsumu’s cracked voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it worked,” Yuki said, putting her hand back on Sakusa’s face to pat around gently. It was horribly unpleasant but made Sakusa’s heart swim anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa finally opened his eyes, then. The room was surprisingly warm, between the off-white walls and the sun filtering through the open window. He blinked. He blinked again, slower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was bright, and his eyes felt crusty, but it was worth it to finally get a glimpse of Atsumu, pale hair wreathed in sunlight, hovering awkwardly next to his bed like he wanted to come closer, but wasn’t sure if he should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re awake,” he breathed. He still didn’t move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki had no such qualms. “Omiiiiiii,” she cried, and launched herself into his hospital bed, driving an </span>
  <em>
    <span>oomph </span>
  </em>
  <span>from Sakusa. Just like that, his body hurt again. It was worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Sakusa rasped, eyes crinkling with a genuine smile before accidentally drifting closed again. He didn’t feel high, so he assumed he wasn’t very medicated, if at all. But he was tired, still. And he felt hollow, weak, like his strength had been siphoned from his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered. He remembered the pulling sensation as his blood poured from his body, the horror of what they’d done to him. He remembered feeling colder than stone. His breath caught.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki made herself comfortable, bullying one of Sakusa’s arms out of the way so she could sit on the bed beside him. “I brought you this,” she said, and procured a bright mug, with swirls and shapes in every color imaginable. It was ugly. Sakusa loved it. His eyes felt warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you make this?” He reached out to grab it, the ceramic smooth and cold in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep yep, Atsumu made one too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was being weirdly quiet, and was still standing off to the side. He was gorgeous, even though his eye bags were dark and he looked as weary as Sakusa felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Yuki said, taking the cup back from him and turning it over in her small hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu flinched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya did, though,” he said, anguish written in the slant of his eyebrows and the pull of his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya </span>
  <em>
    <span>died, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Omi, ya said ya wouldn’t, and - and I thought ya were gone. I thought I was too late.” His hands were buried in his jean pockets, but Sakusa could see he was clenching them into fists by the way his arms were tensed. He was too far away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu still didn’t move closer. Sakusa wanted him to, wanted him to come occupy the side of the bed that Yuki wasn’t (not that they’d fit) and hold him. Because everything was okay now, they’d done it, so what was this distance? Why, when he finally felt warm enough, was the side of his body cold where Atsumu could have been?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you got me,” Sakusa croaked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shook his head, looking haunted. “I didn’t. We were too slow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki was glaring at Atsumu, and dropped one hand to pet Sakusa’s (probably disgusting) hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to think about that. “It doesn’t matter,” Sakusa let his head fall back on the pillow, feeling even more tired, and his eyes wanted to close, “I’m here now.” He didn’t know what the hospital had done, or why he was alive, but he didn’t actually care. What mattered was this, now, with Atsumu and Yuki. He could get the details later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya don’t get it, Omi, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I let you die, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so no, it’s not fine, and it does matter. And what they did to ya -” Atsumu sounded choked up now, and Sakusa didn’t want to have this conversation. It ended up fine, why was Atsumu still so upset?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit fighting,” Yuki mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s face crumpled, his mask finally breaking to reveal the guilt and sadness he must have been feeling the whole time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Sakusa offered, “we can talk more about it later if you want. But I’ve been waiting weeks to be with you again, so can you please...?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” A brief smile flickered over Atsumu’s face, then he was moving, dragging a chair to the side of Sakusa’s bed. Instead of sitting in it, though, he bent down, cupped Sakusa’s face gently with one hand, and pressed a kiss to the moles on his brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He touched his own forehead to Sakusa’s and whispered, “I missed ya. And I’m glad yer okay, now.” Sakusa smiled and brought his own hand up to cradle Atsumu’s face in return. Gods, he loved this man. Even when he was being upset instead of smothering Sakusa in affection like he so obviously needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki pushed Atsumu’s face out of Sakusa’s space with a very judgmental look. “Gross. This is worse than fightin’.” Atsumu sat back in the chair, but his hand linked with Sakusa’s. He felt a gentle squeeze, and squeezed back. He really was tired. His eyes drifted closed again, but he kept listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yer the one that wanted to come with, shortstack. I coulda left ya behind, ya know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki scoffed. “Nuh uh, ya </span>
  <em>
    <span>woke me up </span>
  </em>
  <span>jus’ to make sure I still wanted to come.” Sakusa believed it. He couldn’t imagine for a moment that Atsumu would have left Yuki behind. Yuki seemed to know it, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nuh uh, that happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nuh uh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>yer lyin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their voices drifted into the background. Sakusa was warm, and loved, and safe, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa fell asleep, and didn’t dream. Everything he could have dreamt of was right in front of him, anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They didn’t let us bring Atlas,” Yuki said with a pout the next morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One moment Sakusa had been falling asleep to their bickering, and the next moment it was the next day and they were there again - he hadn’t known he was capable of sleeping that long, but if anything could make it happen, it was torture and near-death, he supposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see him tomorrow,” Sakusa replied around a yawn. It was too early, visiting hours just having started, but all was forgiven when Atsumu said he brought breakfast. He pulled a berry scone from his pocket (ew) and broke a chunk off to feed to Sakusa with a smirk. Sakusa revoked his forgiveness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t open his lips. The inside of Atsumu’s pocket was probably full of lint and crumbs and dirt and “Come on, Omi, open up.” He pushed the morsel against Sakusa’s stubborn mouth and Sakusa glared at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi, it’s really really good!” Yuki offered, which wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really really </span>
  </em>
  <span>the point. The point was that he could imagine every bit of cotton fluff and dirt and pocket gunk that undoubtedly covered the surface of the scone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if he kept his mouth closed, pretty soon that chunk was going to burst into crumbs and hide in every corner of his bed, so Sakusa half-opened his mouth with a pained whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy,” Atsumu chuckled, and Sakusa felt his face heat. He refused to dignify it with a response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his mollification, though, Yuki had been right - it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good scone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got to go home that day, the second day of being awake. Part of it was that once they had filled him with blood (he was trying not to think about it) there wasn’t much else wrong with him. He had protruding lines of stitches in each wrist, and they were wrapped, but those would heal on their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu and a nurse helped him stand. He didn’t feel as shaky as he’d anticipated, but he felt weak. They wheeled him out in a wheelchair, and he was glad to see a taxi pull up. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to walk all the way home, and Atsumu seemed to have picked up on that. Just walking from the ICU to the curb had his breath coming up short.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home” was Atsumu’s house, apparently. Sakusa didn’t argue, and was secretly glad he didn’t have to be alone. If anything, Atsumu’s apartment gave him more comfort than his own, these days. Probably had something to do with the company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’not fair,” Yuki whined, when Atsumu left Sakusa alone on the couch to take Yuki back to the shelter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s voice was pained. “I know, but we’re only allowed to take ya for a couple hours. I’ll getcha tomorrow, okay? Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki held out a pinky, scowl hard, but didn’t argue any more. They were gone, walking out with their pinkies linked and a too-loud slam of the door. The silence of the apartment pressed on Sakusa’s ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt wrong in his skin. Too full, too numb, too sensitive. Was it possible they’d put too much blood in him? Probably not. Whose blood was it, anyway? Was it weird to wonder?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt his breath speed up, and swallowed harshly. He wanted Atsumu back. If nothing else, then to distract him from himself. The ceiling above the couch was too busy, the texture overwhelming Sakusa’s vision.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi,” Akaashi breathed into the phone after it had rung twice, “how are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wanted to cry. Everything felt wrong, except Akaashi, and Atsumu, and Yuki. He didn’t want to be alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m all right,” he murmured, dropping the phone on his chest and turning it to speaker phone. Already, his heart was calming. He could hear Akaashi’s breath, and tried to match it. On the other side of the phone, he could hear the distant hum of voices. He closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu was there. And Yuki.” He knew why Akaashi hadn’t been there. He had nothing to apologize for. “How’s Kuroo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s next inhale was shaky, but his voice was even when he answered. “He still can’t speak. Bokuto thinks it’s temporary. Kenma is joking about liking Kuroo more when he can’t talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...and you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another uneven breath. “I’d prefer he be speechless by choice rather than necessity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think Kuroo is the least bothered,” Akaashi sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, even though Akaashi couldn’t see. “I think, maybe, it’s even harder to see someone you love get hurt than to be the one suffering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard Akaashi’s breath hitch again. He must have been truly shaken, Sakusa knew, to even emote to that extent. Akaashi was stoic to the last, usually. “I really -” Akaashi breathed, then tried again, voice stronger. “I’m glad you’re both all right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They weren’t, not really. Kuroo almost died, Sakusa </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>die. The psychological wounds would take even longer to heal than the physical ones, Sakusa knew. But he didn’t have to tell Akaashi that. Akaashi already knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too, Keiji. I’m not quite finished being your friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard a loud sniff across the phone. His own eyes were damp, but not enough for tears to form and fall. His heart ached in a new way, a pleasant way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...how is it going with Kuroo and Kenma, anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi paused, and sometimes Sakusa wished Akaashi would spend less time planning what he would say. Atsumu’s lack of filter was almost refreshing in comparison, though Sakusa knew he was being a hypocrite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s...fine.” For anyone else, that would mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>not fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For Akaashi, Sakusa knew to take him at his word. “Our relationship isn’t really our priority, right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. But you love them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No pause, this time. “Of course I do. I don’t think anyone could resist loving them, actually. They make it uncomfortably easy. Not loving them would be harder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa chuckled. For someone who was usually reluctant to feel and speak about emotions, Akaashi sure professed his love easily. It seemed like Kuroo and Kenma were good for him, that way. Bokuto, too, he knew, had a hand in getting Akaashi to open himself up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, he heard Atsumu’s footsteps and the sound of paws clicking on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu’s home. I’ll see you soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Keiji. Tell the others hello for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” The line went quiet just as Atsumu’s hand rattled the doorknob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While it wasn’t untrue, Sakusa wasn’t feeling terrible, he knew something that would make him feel even better. That something was walking through the door, eyes catching Sakusa’s and lighting up, like he hadn’t been positive Sakusa would have been right where Atsumu had left him. As if Sakusa would willingly be anywhere else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlas bolted forward, ripping the leash out of Atsumu’s lax hand, to push his wet nose into the warm skin of Sakusa’s neck. A soft whine left the dog, and Sakusa dropped a hand to pet along the smooth curve of Atlas’s skull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess he’s forgiven ya,” Atsumu commented, and it took Sakusa a moment to remember Atlas had been mad at him at all, and for what.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlas seemed to have forgotten it as well, if his gentle tail wags were any indication.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu turned towards the kitchen. Before he even knew what he was going to say, or why his heart suddenly hurt, Sakusa snapped, “No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu looked at him funny. “Huh? I’m just gettin’ water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t know how to explain it. He didn’t even know what was going on, just that he didn’t want Atsumu to be any farther from him than he was right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Atsumu said, even though Sakusa had been too busy stressing himself out to even speak, “okay. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe that was it - maybe Sakusa just wasn’t ready to be alone again, after those weeks where he wasn’t sure whether he’d even see any of his loved ones again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu gently lifted Sakusa’s legs and slid beneath, settling them on his lap. With one hand, he loosely gripped one of Sakusa’s ankles. They were wrapped, too, and the ache in his achilles tendons was acute. Whatever they had done at the hospital had allowed him to walk, but it hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the other hand, Atsumu smoothed up Sakusa’s thigh, then hip, then detached from his ribs to twine with Sakusa’s own hand. Sakusa was alive. He could feel his heartbeat against Atsumu’s warm palm, their fingers smooth in each other’s gaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was good. It was everything, and not enough, so Sakusa pulled and pulled until Atsumu lay down next to him, curled tightly into Sakusa’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t fit, not really. Their legs had to bend because the couch was too short, and Atsumu’s arms, wrapped tightly around Sakusa, prevented him from falling off. It was perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt Atsumu let out a long, deep breath. He felt him press a light kiss to his shoulder, his neck, the space behind his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa loved him. It wasn’t the adrenaline, the fear, the near-death experience. He’d known it before, but now it burned in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his head and caught Atsumu’s mouth, their lips brushing. Sakusa knew he was gross, he must have smelled horrible, and later he would make Atsumu help him bathe. For now, Atsumu didn’t seem to mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he whispered, and Atsumu swallowed it without hesitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love ya,” Atsumu mumbled back, pressing it into Sakusa’s mouth with his lips, into his heart, and traced it with a gentle hand on Sakusa’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he said again, just to make sure Atsumu knew. He had to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I heard ya,” Atsumu repeated around a soft grin, and pulled Sakusa’s face even closer so he could look into his eyes, “and I love you, Kiyoomi.” The way Sakusa’s heart thumped at that felt good in a thousand ways.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was gentle, when he helped Sakusa to the bath after they took an accidental nap on the couch for a few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fun,” Atsumu teased, and Sakusa tried not to feel guilty for needing so much help even when he knew it was reasonable to need it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t like feeling helpless, or weak. But he felt neither of those things even when Atsumu helped him sit in the tub, or when he stole a cup from the kitchen to scoop water and pour it gently over Sakusa’s head while he shielded his eyes, or when he massaged shampoo into Sakusa’s filthy curls and pressed kisses into the damp skin of his temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See? Fun,” Atsumu told him, quieter, when Sakusa used his wet hands to pull his lover closer by the neck and kiss him, over and over again on his lips, his cheek, his brow, his fingertips that scrubbed soap over every inch of Sakusa’s skin and then rinsed it away with warm water until he felt not only cleansed but absolved as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt loved, not weak, when Atsumu tugged socks onto Sakusa’s feet when he said it was hard to shake the cold grip of death from his bones. He felt loved when Atsumu wrapped him in his arms and wished him goodnight, only smiling gently and reassuring him when Sakusa whispered </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, I love you, I don’t want to wake up alone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya won’t, Omi, I’ll be right here. Swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa knew he meant it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was alive, and loved, and maybe he would get his happy ending after all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this is out kinda late - it's impressive I got it posted today at all, actually, because a) second covid shot yesterday made my head hurt b) I just graduated! this was finals week, I was quite busy and stressed. But now I'm officially a college graduate :)</p><p>SAKUSA IS ALIIIIIIIVE :D<br/>okay but was anyone even surprised? what should I have done to really make ya believe it? tag for major character death? but then i don't want people to see that and think it's true and not read, ya know? </p><p>I hope you're all taking care of yourselves. I, for one, finally get to relax for a while &lt;3</p><p>Please leave a comment if you feel like it! really wanting to know people's reactions to the recent plot developments. Also, if you have any suggestions on how to improve writing those actiony parts, pls let me know. idk why it was so hard.</p><p>Okay love you, bye</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The stone steps rumbled with the sounds of foot traffic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Atsumu fucks Sakusa. They have an important date at the court house. They visit Yuki for the last time. Osamu provides hungry workers with a snack.<br/>They live happily ever after.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone!<br/>there's some porn, so check the **** if you wanna skip it<br/>So, I finally did it! This is the End. I have one more chapter planned that is an epilogue, but the actual story ends here. I hope the ending satisfies you :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu woke up the same way he had been waking up for a week now: wrapped completely around Omi. His left arm was asleep, under Omi’s neck, and his nose was buried in the man’s dark hair at the back of his neck. Their breathing was synced up and Atsumu could feel the other man’s heart beating, slow and strong, through his chest pressed to Omi’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was early. Atlas was asleep at the foot of their bed, having grown more and more comfortable with it until it became his permanent spot. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the sky outside his window was turning lavender, so he knew it would rise soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though it had been a whole week of Omi being back, Atsumu found himself remembering, suddenly, the ache of his loss. Then he’d look over at Omi, the man he loved, and feel that ache bloom into something else. Something fond, and gentle, and warm as Omi’s lips when he kissed Atsumu good morning without fail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t been working. In part because Atsumu wasn’t ready to believe that Omi was fully recovered even though he insisted he felt fine, but also because they had enough money to take a break for a while and Atsumu had had his fill of violence of late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, they’d been cooking together and taking Atlas to parks with Yuki, visiting Iwaizumi’s gym to work out (once Omi wanted to), getting drunk with Oikawa at ten in the morning at Suga’s restaurant, and all the things Atsumu had wanted to be doing the whole time when they were too busy with the kidnappings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was blissful. Outside the window, the gray sky was already starting to warm up - by the time it reached afternoon, Atsumu knew it would be scorching. The damp drip of the city would be replaced by flickering heat waves and the smell of melting asphalt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, though, cool air pooled in from the half-open window, and the space beneath the covers was comfortably warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu went to pee, making sure to stay quiet. When he got back, instead of lying down again immediately, he stopped to study his boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s face was relaxed in sleep, but still composed somehow. He didn’t drool; his lips weren’t parted, and Atsumu could see the gentle flex of his jaw clenching. Atsumu wondered if he’d have to get a mouth guard, eventually, because of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d be older then, maybe Sakusa would have gray hairs, and their bodies wouldn’t be as hard as they were at twenty-six. They’d brush teeth side by side, and Omi would slip his mouth guard in, and Atsumu would kiss him even though it made his lips puff out a little more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wouldn’t have sex as much, either, but when they did it would be just as loving, just as fulfilling, as it was now. The kind of act that built on a lasting attraction, undiminished by the years they’d spent together. They’d know each others’ bodies as well as they knew their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d almost lost it, this dream of happiness with the man in front of him. Walking back through the hospital doors, expecting to hear condolences, he’d realized that whatever future he’d wanted for them wasn’t possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t like to be wrong, generally. He’d be glad until the day he died that he had been wrong then, when he’d thought he’d lost Omi forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu didn’t realize he was tearing up until he heard his name called softly from the bed. Omi had the covers tucked up under his chin in his fists, and one eye was barely open to assess Atsumu standing there, the cool air from the window beginning to prickle his skin into goosebumps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Omi mumbled, closing his one eye again. It was cute. Omi was hot, usually, but when he got soft or tired or grumpy he turned cute, instead. It was like magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothin’.” Atsumu blinked rapidly and moved his frozen feet to his side of the bed. “Nothin’ is wrong.” He slid back under the blankets into the warm pocket of air and pressed his whole body into Omi’s, relishing the warmth of his skin. The only fabric between them was the boxers they were both wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu brushed Omi’s curls away from his face and pressed a kiss into his temple before settling down the rest of the way. Even as he let sleepiness pull his eyes closed again, his hand didn’t stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It traced the delicate curve of Omi’s pointed ear, thumbed over the pulse in his neck, swept over his muscular shoulder. Omi had lost muscle mass, that much was obvious, but it was slowly coming back through their efforts at Iwaizumu’s gym.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shifted closer, slipping his hand forward to cup Omi’s pec, then rolled his nipple in between his fingers. It was already hardened, and Atsumu smirked as he scraped a nail lightly over the nub. Omi breathed deep, tilting a shoulder back slightly to give Atsumu better access to the rest of his torso.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s eyes were still closed, but a tiny smile lifted the corner of his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Atsumu’s hand reached Omi’s hip, he pulled, so Omi tilted his hips into Atsumu. Reaching farther, Atsumu smoothed his hand down Omi’s taut thigh and wrapped his fingers around Omi’s inner thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He coaxed Omi’s leg up, over Atsumu’s own. Now Omi’s legs were spread wide, held there by Atsumu’s propped up knee. They were half on their backs, and Omi was half-way on top of Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu used his right hand to smooth back up Omi’s right leg and squeezed his left arm under Omi’s waist, coming up to press it flat against Omi’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was heady, the way Atsumu felt completely in control of Omi’s sleep-soft body like this. Omi’s head was tilted back, exposing the long column of his throat, and Atsumu pressed a gentle, biting kiss to the hinge of his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi breathed in, held it, then let it out and relaxed completely into Atsumu. In this position, the soft give of Omi’s toned ass pressed against Atsumu’s dick, which was already hardening, but that wasn’t his priority.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His priority was the way Omi’s breathing picked up slowly but his body stayed lax in Atsumu’s hold as he brought his lower hand up to tease the edge of where Omi’s boxers clung tight to his upper thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers skimmed across Omi’s skin, feeling the soft brush of his leg hair under the pads, then slipped under the hem to reach farther up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was slow about it, wanting to preserve the lazy half-asleep atmosphere, but he couldn’t help the shudder of pleasure that coursed through him when he wrapped his hand possessively around the highest point of Omi’s thigh and used his thumb to brush the crease where his leg met his torso.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi was so pliant in his hold, content to let his legs relax, even as Atsumu’s knees held them wide apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shifted his hand even higher, loved the way the tips of his fingers could wrap so far around that he could feel the crease under Omi’s ass. His thumb kept brushing lazy swipes across the sensitive skin between Omi’s legs until he got close enough to feel more skin against the tip of his thumb - wiry hair, then Omi’s balls, which were already drawn tighter to his body with arousal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s next breath shook slightly, a sign that made Atsumu grin and press another kiss high on his neck, and used the palm on his chest to press them even closer together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu was hard as a rock now; he could feel himself throbbing against Omi’s ass, and his boxers were damp with the precome oozing out his slit. He still didn’t care, too focused on the man on top of him to even consider reaching for his own erection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stroked the side of Omi’s balls again with his thumb, then brought the rest of his fingers up to roll them gently in his fingers. It wasn’t the same as getting touched on his dick, Atsumu knew that, but there was something to be said for the slow build of arousal, of the way that starting slow and amping it up made it all the better when he finally wrapped his hand around Omi’s cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did it now, giving Omi one last gentle squeeze before pulling his hand out all together because the leg hole of the boxers wasn’t big enough for his arm to go that high.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t even a full second before he was back, slipping his hand under Omi’s waistband with a steadying breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still kept it achingly slow, refusing to wrap his hand around Omi until he was sure he was dripping for it. Atsumu knew that if the roles were reversed he’d be begging and whining for Omi to just touch him already, but Omi seemed happy with the snail pace, breaking the silence only to let out quiet hums and satisfied breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breathing was faster now but still slow, his hands relaxed even though his right one was lifted to tangle in Atsumu’s hair and pull him closer by the nape of his neck. When Atsumu lifted his neck to peek, he saw Omi’s were still closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked asleep, almost, face blissfully slack as he let Atsumu do what he wanted with Omi’s drowsy body. But he wasn’t, he was awake, and enjoying everything Atsumu gave him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tip of Omi’s cock was swollen and hard, when Atsumu finally got his whole hand through the waistband. He didn’t go farther - he wanted to keep it as slow as he could. First, he curled his fingers over just the tip of Omi’s cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so hard it had to be painful, the slit wet with precome that had seeped over his head and into his boxers, onto his taut abdomen. Atsumu circled it gently with his fist, keeping his touch light on purpose to elicit a quiet, but frustrated groan from his boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, gods,” Omi breathed, when Atsumu tightened his hold around the head of his cock and inched his thumb along the ridge of his crown, then up over the head to tease the slit in slow, sure motions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi throbbed, and Atsumu felt a pulse of precome push against his thumb to slide over the firm skin under Atsumu’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi made a noise, an almost-word, but it was too quiet for Atsumu to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” he encouraged, gently squeezing Omi’s tip again. Omi opened his mouth to pant, slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” he breathed, still quiet but loud enough for Atsumu to hear him and feel the clench of his heart from arousal, and surprise, and all the love in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, baby,” Atsumu breathed back. Then he was tightening his fist into a channel for Omi and sliding it all the way down his throbbing cock, jerking it a couple times at the base, then moving over his whole length again, and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a little dry, but Atsumu figured Omi would complain if he really cared. With every slide of Atsumu’s hand from root to tip, Omi’s hips flexed just slightly, his cheeks tightening on Atsumu’s cock just enough to stimulate him without being enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi had been facing away from Atsumu for most of it, since they were kind of spooning, but now he twisted his neck around and pushed his face into Atsumu, planting his lips on Atsumu’s in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi whimpered once into Atsumu’s lips, tightened his legs even though Atsumu’s wouldn’t let them close, and then he was arching his back and coming into Atsumu’s fist with a strangled groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Omi’s cock started to soften, leaving thick streaks and puddles of come all over Atsumu’s hand, Atsumu went to let go and remove his hand but Omi made a discontented noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More,” Omi mumbled against Atsumu’s lips. Atsumu’s hand stilled, not wanting to push Omi into unpleasant oversensitivity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More,” Omi huffed, using his own hand to drag Atsumu’s down, past his balls to his entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, okay.” Atsumu’s cock jolted. He hadn’t even been thinking of his own release, but now that Omi had brought up the possibility of penetrative sex, Atsumu could think of little else. Atsumu helped Omi pull his boxers off, and he did the same, before coaxing them into the same position as before: Omi, back to chest with Atsumu, his thighs spread obscenely and held there by Atsumu’s bent knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi grabbed the lube and used both hands to drizzle some over Atsumu’s upturned fingers, then relaxed on top of Atsumu again. Any tension in his body had faded into post-coital bonelessness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed completely lax as Atsumu rubbed the pads of two fingers over his hole before dipping the tips of his fingers inside. It was warm and easy, but still tight, so Atsumu went slowly as he started with two fingers instead of one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed them in a little, just enough to feel Omi’s rim expand around the intrusion, then let them slip back out to massage the skin surrounding his entrance. Omi whined softly, and his legs tried to close, but Atsumu didn’t let them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next time he went back he pushed a little farther, up to his second knuckle. He left them there, unmoving, to feel the way Omi’s muscle moved in small increments, clenching and relaxing involuntarily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scissored them, stretching the muscle gently, and used his thumb to trace Omi’s perineum with careful but solid strokes. Omi’s legs tried to jerk closed again, before relaxing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sex with Omi wasn’t usually like this. They’d done slow, and gentle, and lazy, but nothing had ever quite matched what they were doing now. Omi had never been as pliant, as willing to let Atsumu take him apart as he was right now. Atsumu had never been this patient, so satisfied to see the small shivers his movements elicited, and the choked breaths he wouldn’t be able to hear if they were any faster about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d never felt like Omi was giving himself to Atsumu, trusting him fully with every aspect of his being, as much as he was now. It was euphoric, feeling like Omi would let Atsumu cradle his body with the knowledge that nothing would hurt, no boundaries would be pushed. Like Atsumu could do nothing wrong. Omi was anything but alert - he seemed half-asleep, his conscious mind on the back burner while he let Atsumu play his body like an old piano.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Atsumu was three fingers deep, thrusting and rubbing his fingers up against Omi’s prostate, every movement of his was eliciting soft, whiny noises from Omi’s throat. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back towards Atsumu, and he was still relaxed like he was half-awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was hard again, though, precome connecting the shiny tip of his cock to his abdomen with a glossy strand that let the head of his cock slip back and forth gently with Atsumu’s movements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu couldn’t ignore, now, the weight of Omi on top of his hard cock and the tight heat of Omi around his fingers. He wasn’t even inside him, and every moment felt like it was tilting him towards orgasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled his fingers out slowly, to feel the soft closing of Omi’s passage around the tapered ends of his fingers. Omi was panting softly, sweat glistening on the curves of his loose muscles, and Atsumu had never seen anything more gorgeous in his whole life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t fuck around, after he pulled his fingers away. He just used his wet hand to slick up his cock, shifted slightly to prop it up, and slid himself inside Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was only a little resistance, eased by the lube, as he slid easily up and inside Omi. The whole time he kept his own knees spread wide, holding Omi’s apart too, and the lewdness of the position sank in as he bottomed out completely. Omi moaned, long and breathy, and Atsumu felt him clench around his length once before relaxing again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Atsumu’s grip on Omi’s hips tightened and he flexed, driving his cock impossibly farther into Omi’s warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snaked his left hand back under Omi’s waist and up, so he could curl it over the front of Omi’s shoulder for leverage. His right stayed on Omi’s hip, steadying him with small circles of his thumb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi’s whine was uninhibited, when Atsumu drew his hips back and surged upward again, splitting Omi on his cock. Omi shuddered, and his lips dropped open again as he started breathing harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu did it again, harder, eyes squeezing shut at how deep this position let him get, how wholly Omi’s body accepted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every thrust spilled noises from Omi’s lips, but Atsumu kept his movements languid. They could fuck fast later, if they wanted. For now, he wanted to feel every torturous inch of himself as he sank repeatedly into his boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was torturous. Because his little monkey brain wanted to speed up, wanted to sprint towards his own release, but when he went slow - so slow he could feel the catch of his crown on Omi’s rim, and the drag of their skin, and the tight circle of Omi around the base of his cock when he paused - it was like stepping into a hot bath, like waking up to someone else’s smile, like digging his toes into warm sand, like the first bite of green tea ice cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was bliss. The sun was just starting to rise, but the light in the room was still dim, and everything had a dreamlike quality of hazy perfection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Omi’s body started to shake. At first it was a tremor here and there, an involuntary jerk of his leg. But before long, when Atsumu got into a slow but deep rhythm, the tremors spread into whole-body shivers that had Omi tensing his abs, clenching down on Atsumu, and trying in vain to pull his thick thighs closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi came without Atsumu even touching his cock, gasping around a choked-off moan like it had caught him by surprise. Every part of Omi’s body tensed when he came, and it sent Atsumu over the edge a few thrusts later, when Omi’s shivers were fading into jerks and small spasms and he returned to bonelessness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In ten minutes, Atsumu knew Omi would get pissy about Atsumu coming inside. But he’d take it all back when Atsumu doted on him in the shower, something they both realized he loved after they had to do it so much while he was recovering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, Atsumu stayed inside even as he went soft, liking the way he could keep his come inside, and the way it felt when Omi’s body stayed somewhat tight around him even as he shrank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just to be sloppy, he gave a little thrust. Come dribbled out beside his cock, and dripped over his balls. He regretted the thrust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been planning on checking on Omi, smothering him with affection and cleaning him up then joining him in the shower, but a quiet snore interrupted his train of thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was probably an accident, a weird breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another snore, slightly louder. Omi was </span>
  <em>
    <span>asleep. With Atsumu’s cock inside him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s spent cock jerked at the realization. If they’d talked about it beforehand, maybe he would have seen if he could get hard again and fuck the sleeping Omi with long, gentle thrusts, but they hadn’t. So he pulled out carefully and let Omi’s legs finally rest, moving each by hand so they could close again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His own hips ached sharply from keeping Omi’s spread the whole time, but it had been more than worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped out from under Omi and lifted his wrist to his mouth, kissing gently. Omi slept on. Atsumu crowded up near his face to kiss him on the cheek, then checked one more time to make sure he was sleeping before scooting into the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only when the water was hot did Atsumu go back to the bedroom to wake Omi up. First, though, he ran a washcloth under his ass to clean all the come that had seeped out while he drifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omi,” he whispered. Not even a flutter of his eyelids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby,” he tried again, crawling up the bed. He pressed an insistent kiss below his rib cage, ran his tongue over Omi’s soft pec. Nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He straddled Omi’s waist and caged his head with his arms and bent to kiss him. At first Omi’s mouth was slack, but as Atsumu teased his mouth open and licked inside, Omi began to reciprocate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kissed lazily, nothing more than trading nips and soft kisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shower?” Atsumu asked, knowing that having the opportunity to clean up immediately would ensure that Omi wasn’t so grossed out about having fallen asleep with Atsumu’s come inside him, seeping out between his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bathroom was full of steam when Atsumu led Omi inside. Under the hot water, Atsumu leaned Omi against the wall and took his time cleaning him up, his fingers trailing affection with every movement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hot outside, even though it was only noon. Atsumu’s dress shirt stuck to his back with sweat and his hands were too warm, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the oppressive heat baking the city and him with it, or because of what they were about to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Omi, really. Atsumu was a tag-along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their first stop was the court house. Every sound echoed off the marble floors and sterile walls, and Atsumu imagined that if it was eerie for him it must have been even worse for Omi, whose sensitive ears could probably pick up way more information about the building than he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya nervous?” Atsumu asked, as they avoided an ancient-looking elevator in favor of worn, stone steps. The steps rumbled lowly, like they’d internalized all the years of foot traffic until it was all they knew how to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Omi replied, and his expression was hidden by a mask, but his eyes held excitement - not fear - even though they were in a building representative of the government that had failed, again and again, to accept legislation for the protection of fae in their society. Atsumu had been googling stuff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The third floor was full of people. Families, mostly, older siblings watching younger siblings while their parents filled out forms in the lines of uncomfortable plastic chairs they had lining the hall. Many were immigrants, many were fae. Atsumu felt that the floor looked like how headaches felt, but he was here to support Omi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like this had nothing to do with him, anyway. They went straight to the lady at the desk to check themselves in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa Kiyoomi?” the lady behind the window repeated, and Omi nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, we have you in room three. Go ahead and wait inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi had said he wasn’t nervous, but Atsumu was. There were multiple reasons this might not work, multiple ways it could go wrong. Omi’s hand brushed his, and Atsumu let out a breath. It would be fine. If Omi wasn’t nervous, he wouldn’t be either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room was over-air conditioned and sterile. It looked like the interrogation rooms in tv cop shows, but without the cuffs on the table. Atsumu privately thought the hard plastic chairs could have made a reasonable torture device.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t even five minutes of waiting with their hands folded in their laps before a short, plump woman was scurrying into the room and closing the door behind her. She didn’t spare them a glance at first, just organized the papers in her arms on the table, scooted her chair out, and settled in her seat with a frazzled look and a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa,” she said, sharply. Atsumu’s heart stopped, he was pretty sure, but Omi didn’t flinch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked down at her papers with an expression that gave nothing away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The judge has approved, on a probationary basis, your application to become a parent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only sign Omi gave that he heard her was a sharp inhale. Atsumu, on the other hand, slapped his arm lightly and repeatedly with the back of his hand in excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you know, this process was only required because of your occupation. I want to be clear that it had nothing to do with your fae heritage.” She looked over her glasses at them, making eye contact with each for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had known it already, but it was nice to hear confirmed - that whatever hesitation they had about Omi came from his violent career, not his race. It was also made clear to them, by the shelter, that all prospective parents had to go through the process of being investigated, interviewed, and vetted before they would even consider adoption.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the kids’ sakes, especially the more vulnerable fae kids the shelter took in, it was an important step that both Omi and Atsumu understood the merit of. It hadn’t made it any less stressful, having to prove themselves as non abusive and mentally stable adults.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe,” Atsumu whispered. Omi turned to smile, but all Atsumu could see above his mask was the crinkle of his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman’s expression softened then, and she lost the frazzled look that Atsumu was confident came from her stressful, high-paced job. She grinned at them. “Congratulations, Sakusa Kiyoomi. Here’s the paperwork indicating the approval. We’ll keep a copy as well, but this is for you.” She held it out and Omi took it with fingers that didn’t shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Technically, only Omi would be adopting Yuki. Since technically Atsumu was only his boyfriend at this point, and Yuki came before him - that much was necessary, and Atsumu agreed wholeheartedly with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, if he had any say in it, he would be just as permanent a fixture as Yuki.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s kinda miraculous,” Atsumu remarked, when they stepped back out of the court house into the blistering sunshine. Omi laughed, a light sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It really was - between being unmarried, fae, and gay, Omi had the cards stacked against him. But the input of the employees at the shelter - who had practically raised Omi after he ran away - and Yuki’s own passionate speech about how great Omi was had apparently won the judge over. For good reason, too. Atsumu knew Omi would make a great dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu himself would try his hardest, too. Omi had a couple months of time more than him, but Atsumu had the advantage of being the Fun Dad. Omi glowered every time Atsumu teased him about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until twenty minutes later and they were still walking, that Atsumu realized he had no idea where they were. He was in the middle of explaining the exact circumstances that had led to Suna getting stuck in an animal shelter overnight, and Omi was nodding along at all the funny parts, when Atsumu noticed he’d never seen this part of town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, where are we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? Why doesn’t Suna just wear a collar with Osamu’s information on it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, that’s what I said! But Suna was like </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, it would ruin my image, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or somethin’ stupid like - wait. Omi, where the fuck are we goin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi didn’t answer, just pulled his mask away from his mouth to shoot Atsumu a smirk that </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely did not answer </span>
  </em>
  <span>his question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were close-ish to Owl and Orchid, Atsumu thought, but the area was a little less urban - apartment buildings instead of office buildings, roads that were a little emptier. They passed a park, with an outdoor yoga group in the grass and some kids yelling on a playground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omiiiii, this’d better be a good surprise,” Atsumu whined. Omi bumped his hand into Atsumu’s and threaded their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, they stopped before a tall brick building. Omi was still smiling, but it was hidden behind his mask. Atsumu squeezed his hand. Omi squeezed back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya gonna tell me now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi pressed a fob against the door to the building and it opened with a mechanical click. Atsumu was getting more and more curious by the second. He liked surprises, but didn’t like being kept in the dark. Were they meeting someone? Did this have something to do with Yuki? They were supposed to pick her up right after their meeting at the courthouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The elevator’s broken,” Omi said, leading him to a dingy stair well. Well, that was cool. Atsumu didn’t mind stairs, provided there weren’t that many. Good exercise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the twentieth story, Atsumu was irritable and sweaty and his legs were aching with every step. He didn’t even get to listen to what the stairs had to say, since they were made of metal and tile instead of any kind of stone. Omi, for his part, seemed completely normal. He wasn’t even out of breath, and Atsumu wanted to hit him for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a little more,” Omi said, probably aware that Atsumu was moments away from an impassioned speech about keeping secrets and making people climb stairs. He held the door for Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hallway was short, and there was only one door, which surprised Atsumu since it seemed like the type of apartment building to fit as many tiny rooms into one floor as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu furrowed his eyebrows at Omi, trying to convey confusion and judgment at the same time. Omi rolled his eyes at him and procured a tiny silver key from his pocket. Atsumu narrowed his eyes. Omi handed him the key and nodded towards the lone door at the end of the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really startin’ to question yer methods, Omi.” But Atsumu dutifully approached the door - an ugly, scuffed brown metal rectangle - and slid the key into the slot. It caught a little, but he pushed and twisted and then the door was swinging open to reveal the room beyond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had fantastic light, was the first thing Atsumu noticed. Large windows (Omi informed him they were south-facing, which Atsumu failed to see the importance of) bathed the whole room in warm sunlight. It was also unbearably warm, but Omi opened one of the screened windows and a cool draft fluttered in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was empty. The living room had a kitchen on one side, near the door, and two hallways split off in opposite directions. No furniture decorated the old wood floors, and the kitchen attached to the living room had no appliances. Atsumu had no idea what was going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment was a lot bigger than he first thought. Through the south-facing wall of windows he could see the roof of the building stretching out on the other side - this apartment must take up half the floor, and the other half was an open roof, he realized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to look at Omi, but he was gazing out the windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go look around,” Omi said. Dropping the key on the counter, Atsumu did as he was told. Down the hallway on the right, there was a large bedroom with large, old windows on two walls and a big closet. It had a connected bathroom, too, with an enormous tub that made Atsumu grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other half of the house was almost identical, but with a laundry room attached to the hall before the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wandered back to the living room, where Omi was standing nervously by the door. At least, he looked more nervous than normal, which just meant his hands were buried in his pockets and his mask was pulled below his chin to reveal tight lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” Omi asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu squinted. “Uh, cool house, but I don’t really get what’s goin’ on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi paused, then his eyes widened. “You don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no? Why’re ya showin’ me this? Do ya know who owns it or somethin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi looked conflicted, like he was having trouble deciding between violence and disbelief. “Well, do you like it?” He sounded like he was being strangled. Atsumu was so confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Would you want to live here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean sure, but I already - wait. Wait, wait.” It was clicking….it was clicking….it clicked. “Fuck, Omi, did ya buy a new house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technically, I haven’t bought it yet. I wanted to run it by you, so we could, you know. Decide together.” Omi looked off to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aw, well, that was sweet. Atsumu said so. “Well yeah, I think it’s a great place. But what was wrong with your last one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where exactly in my old apartment did you think Yuki was going to sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. “Oh, uh, I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. Well, then, ya definitely need somewhere with a room for each of ya. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” How, in all the excitement, had he forgotten Yuki needed an actual room? Oh, fuck, he was so not ready to be a dad. Well, dad-adjacent. Omi would be her dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As awesome as all this was, and it was awesome, Atsumu couldn’t help but feel a little left out. Here was this perfect home, for Omi and Yuki, and Atsumu was some extra on the side. Sure, they both loved him, but he felt...secondary. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t the priority here, Yuki was. It helped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Omi sighed, sounding relieved. Sometimes Atsumu got the feeling that Omi thought he was stupid, which was ridiculous. “One for us, one for her. It’s better than either of our apartments, since neither of us has a guest room that she could move into. We still won’t have a guest room, but I don’t really think we’ll need one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, now Atsumu was lost again. “We?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gods,” Omi wailed, dropping his face into his hands and making terrible noises. It was alarming. “Atsumu. You fucking idiot. I’m asking you to move in with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, fuck, maybe Atsumu actually was stupid. “...Really?” he asked, suddenly and aggressively choked up and feeling like he might burst into tears after the tiny emotional rollercoaster he’d sent himself on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, really,” Omi mumbled into his hands. “So do you want to?” He picked his face up with a hopeful (embarrassed) expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, ‘course I wanna live with ya, Omi. In what world would I say no to that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu took two fast steps forward and gripped Omi in a tight hug that he took a couple seconds to reciprocate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Omi whispered into his hair, “it’s kind of soon. We’re taking a lot of steps very early. You wouldn’t be wrong to want to wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck that so much - “I dunno what I did to make you think otherwise, Sakusa Kiyoomi, but I am fully expecting to be with ya until one of us dies. Hopefully when we’re old as fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi surprised Atsumu by gripping tighter and sniffing indelicately. Looked like Atsumu wasn’t the only one feeling a little emotional about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right,” Omi said. “That works for me.” He sniffed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So no, I don’t think it’s too fast. ‘Cause I’m not givin’ ya up any time soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he actually broke down, Atsumu ripped himself away and bolted through the house with a new mindset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Omi, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this is our house!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna live here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With Yuki!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this is our room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking that, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuuuuuck, this tub is huge. I’m so excited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re we gonna do with a whole-ass roof as a view, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, actually, I was talking to Keiji about that. First, we should put a railing up so nobody falls off and dies. But then, we could turn it into a big garden, or something. Keiji wants a project.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oooooof, yeah. That sounds good, I like that. And I can find some nice rocks to add!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...yes, you could do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent. And Yuki can hang out as a bug.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi laughed. “Yes. She could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we could build a neat little dog house for Atlas!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he’s going to live in the house with us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but like...in case he wants to be outside - I dunno Omi, have some imagination.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To a bystander, it might have looked like Omi was humoring Atsumu’s exuberance with patience and indifference. But Atsumu knew better - he saw the excited flush on his boyfriend’s cheeks, the way his eyes lit up when they talked about fixing the place up, the way his hands twitched over every scuff in the walls that needed repainting, and the floors that needed sanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi was just as excited as Atsumu, he was just quieter about it. But since Atsumu knew where to look for his hidden expressions, he knew exactly how much Omi was looking forward to everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YUKI IT WORKED,” Atsumu screamed as soon as they were through the impossibly heavy shelter doors. Omi winced at his volume.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Far away, a scream sounded. It got closer and closer, louder and louder, vibrating along with excited footsteps, until Yuki burst around a corner and flew, still screaming, right into Atsumu’s outstretched arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, loud and bright, as he stood and twirled her around. Then he dropped her onto Omi, who caught her with a grunt and tried to hold on while she wrapped her gangly limbs around him in the most enthusiastic hug Atsumu had ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dropped back to the ground, but grabbed onto one of Omi’s hands. Her grin was blinding. “So yer my dads now?!” She was bouncing slightly, and Atsumu felt like doing the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well -” Atsumu started, but Omi interrupted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Good.” Her yelling was replaced with a dreamy satisfaction, and she tipped her head, eyes smiling and smile wide, into Atsumu’s ribs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m real glad they let ya have me,” Yuki piped, once they’d grabbed her bags (two duffels) and completed the rest of the paperwork at the front desk. The woman who’d signed them out had given Omi a sniffly hug and said things like </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so happy for you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>You deserve this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s about time you start focusing on the good things in life, like family </span>
  </em>
  <span>and made Omi blush to the tips of his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re glad, too, Bug,” Atsumu said, ruffling her hair and making her scowl as she tried to make it lie flat again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This place was,” she looked around and huffed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I guess, but it’ll be nice to have a dad again. Two dads! Even better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had been under the impression that Omi would be her dad, since he was the only one legally adopting her, and that Atsumu would be the boyfriend. He’d been okay with it, understood why it was better that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t mean it didn’t warm his heart to hear both of them speak about him like he was as much a part of this family as they were. His own smile made his cheeks ache as they left the building and walked out into the heat of the afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They got ice cream, having together decided the occasion called for it, and it didn’t feel any different - it was just the three of them, like normal, but now they were an actual, legal family. Not just some dudes hanging out with a ten-year-old girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a few options, Yuki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki perked up, tilting her head to show she was listening, even as she dug around her bowl for another gummy bear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The new house needs some work. We can either live at my apartment, or Atsumu’s, while we fix it up and move in officially once it’s done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or?” she asked, around her spoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or, we can buy bedding stuff today, move in over the course of a few days, and work on it while we’re there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu traded a glance with Omi. “Are you sure?” Atsumu asked, “It’s gonna be a lot of work, and we might have to sleep in the living room while we paint the rooms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, I’m sure. Can we go now? I wanna see it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take nearly as long as they’d been expecting. Because when they showed back up at the new apartment, a herd of rowdy-looking men were waiting in the living room with paint brushes, rollers, painters’ tape, and enough cleaning supplies to make sure everything was good as new.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That, more than anything, made Atsumu want to cry. All their friends, showing up to support them and help their house feel like home, as a symbolic gesture to let them know they would be there to support their little family through anything - oops, he was tearing up. Atsumu wiped his eyes quickly, before anybody could make fun of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, shit, Atsu-chan, I can’t believe you got a kid before me. Iwa, why aren’t I pregnant yet?” Oikawa joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi coughed. “Not for lack of trying,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not in front of the child,” Omi scolded, covering Yuki’s ears with his palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t work. “Wait, can Oikawa get pregnant?” Yuki asked, turning to look at Oikawa, whose face was turning an alarming shade of red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Iwaizumi coughed, failing to suppress his laughter, “Oikawa definitely cannot get pregnant.” He dropped his voice to a mock-whisper to say, “Thank gods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, some dudes can get pregnant,” Kuroo said, sticking his head between Bokuto and Akaashi’s. “No gender essentialism in this house. Some women have penises.” His voice was scratchy, like he had to force it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t Atsumu’s first time seeing Kuroo since that night, but the scar on his neck was still startling. Red, the edges a shiny pink, it stretched across the front of his neck like a violent facsimile of a smile. Atsumu remembered what he had almost lost, what they all had, and was grateful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, yes. Kuroo’s right. But Oikawa can’t, and that’s what matters, please stop talking about it,” Omi begged, but the rest of them were laughing too hard to listen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Between all of them, they got the apartment fixed up in two days. By the end of it they were all sore, and tired of each other, and a little high from the paint fumes and whatever Bokuto and Akaashi did to the floors that made them look brand new.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They collapsed haphazardly on the huge new couch, the soft rug, the bar stools. Everywhere Atsumu looked, there was a tired, twenty-something half-asleep in whatever space they found. Bokuto was on Akaashi’s lap by the windows, helping him plan the rooftop garden. Shouyou and Kageyama were slumped against the wall on each other’s shoulders, seemingly asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma and Kuroo were rooting through the fridge like gremlins. Atsumu happened to know they wouldn’t find anything to eat, since he’d done the same twenty minutes ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi and Yuki were lying side by side on the floor, paint drying on their fingers, trading little comments and huffed laughter. Occasionally, she’d slap him lightly, and he’d pout about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody but Atsumu registered the door opening and two figures slipping inside with sly looks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, wait, is that food?” Kuroo rasped, head popping up above the fridge door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Howdy,” Osamu answered, hefting a huge bag of onigiri in his hand. With his other hand, he unclipped Atlas’s leash. Atlas had been to the apartment yesterday, but they left him with Osamu for the night in case he was sensitive to all the chemical smells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chorus of soft curses (followed by Omi asking people not to swear and Yuki claiming she already knew all the bad words) greeted them at the realization of food, and suddenly the small kitchen was overrun with sweaty, hungry men led by a tiny ten-year-old girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One at a time, c’mon,” Suna suggested, with little impact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, yer the doggy, aren’t ya?” Yuki asked, pointing right into Suna’s face. Suna glared over at Atsumu, who shrugged with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fox,” Osamu spoke around a mouthful of his own onigiri, having been the first to serve himself, apparently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki got a dangerous look. “Same thing,” she snarked, and Atsumu cackled. Even Omi laughed, but he turned his head as if he could hide it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gods, she really is yer kid,” Osamu laughed, giving Yuki a high-five that she gleefully reciprocated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He even likes dog toys,” Atsumu wheezed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! Ya can share Atlas’s toys,” Yuki teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you all and I’m leaving,” Suna said, turning his back on them, but Osamu pulled him back by the elbow and stuffed an onigiri in his mouth. Suna suddenly didn’t look pouty anymore. A cheek kiss from Osamu made him look downright pleased, even though he shot a soft glare at Yuki that she immediately mimicked back at him. It was adorable. It was heart-stoppingly, cheek-achingly adorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu sidled up beside him, once everyone was happily munching from their various positions in the living room. Atsumu wondered if any would stay the night rather than walk back to wherever they’d come from. He loved them all, his heart was so full he thought it might burst. He hadn’t known someone could be this happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everythin’ really worked out,” his brother commented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had. All the moments he’d doubted, when it seemed like the nightmare would never end. Or worse, when it seemed like Atsumu would be back where he’d started before all of this - before Omi; alone and afraid to be anything but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he croaked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya got a good thing, ya know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuki - she’s gonna need a good home. She’s had a shit life - sometimes I forget, ‘cause she’s so happy every time I see ‘er.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was Osamu doubting him? Atsumu knew he didn’t have any experience with this, but he really thought he could be what Yuki and Omi needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know ya probably have yer doubts,” Osamu continued, and Atsumu wanted to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>well I do now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but refrained, “But yer gonna be great, Atsumu. Yer good. Real good, better than anyone I know. And even if ya fuck up, I know you’ll fix it. And they do, too. Yer good enough, and ya deserve this just as much as they do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he was crying now. Fuck his brother and his ability to actually be kind when he wanted instead of the asshole Atsumu had grown up with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s arm came around him and pulled him into a side hug, and he didn’t mention the way Atsumu sniffed too many times in one minute and wiped his eyes with his thumb.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time everybody left, with various promises of hanging out, Omi and Yuki were asleep on the living room floor. Yuki’s head was pillowed on Omi’s arm, and one of them was snoring - Atsumu couldn’t tell which.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlas had fallen asleep by the windows, after asking repeatedly to be let onto the hot roof that led to a sheer drop of twenty stories and lacked a railing of any kind. Obviously, nobody had let him out. But if anything, it validated Atsumu’s plan to give Atlas his own little area outside in the shade-slash-garden set up they were going to build.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bending, he scooped Yuki up off the floor and princess-carried her to her room to tuck her in. Maybe tomorrow he’d start enforcing tooth-brushing before bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right before he closed the door, she spoke. “Goodnight, Atsumu. Love ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Bug. Love ya too. Yell if ya need somethin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Kay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi was harder to carry, so Atsumu didn’t try. He just woke him up by stepping on his ribs with half of his weight until Omi startled and swatted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prick,” Omi whispered. “Yuki asleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soon enough,” Atsumu told him, and led the way to their bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was painted off-white, because they couldn’t agree on which garish color to choose, and this seemed the most adult. Their dark gray bedspread was smooth over their queen-sized bed. They hadn’t gotten curtains yet, so the room was half-bright with light pollution.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was quieter, twenty stories up, than either of their old apartments. Atsumu felt like he was in the clouds, and they’d even left a window cracked so the cool, humid air made their room feel like the night outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu paused for a moment by the window. All of Omi’s little plants were settled in a row on the window sill. Far below, he could see cars and people trailing infrequently by. Far above, he could - for once - see the twinkle of stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he slid between the cool sheets, he was alone only for a second before Omi wrapped him in his thick arms and pulled him close, all the way to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s amazing,” Atsumu whispered, against his mouth. Omi kissed him back, softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi smiled softly, ruining the kiss. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...seeya tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For fuck’s sake, Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the next day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Atsumu. Forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied, Atsumu pulled away and closed his eyes. Yes, he thought. This would do nicely. Forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fin</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HOLY FUQ YOU GUYS<br/>I really did it. I really finished. Thank you all for your support, your interest, your time in reading this story. It obviously got really long - I think it's on the second page of sakuatsu if you sort by words, so that's wild. It's weird to think all this just came out of my brain.</p><p>I really started this project (and fanfic in general) to exercise my writing muscles. I am by no means a professional, obviously, but hopefully this story that gave me so much joy to write has given you just as much joy to read.<br/>Thank you, each and every one of you, for coming with me on this journey. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Sakusa didn't get Atsumu a rock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa never changes. Osamu and Suna have some news. A legal agreement is made. They all live happily ever after :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay guys, holy fuck. It's actually done, it's over, this is the end!<br/>A huge shout out to Ems, without whom this fic definitely *definitely* would never have happened. You're the best, I love you, thank you. Words cannot even - just - thanks. &lt;3 (cries gently)<br/>Second shout out is for everyone who stayed with me on this, who commented and kudosed. You guys gave me so much joy and motivation to keep working. Thank you :)<br/>This has been a pleasure to write (mostly, hehe). I hope it has been a pleasure to read &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sakusa was wrong. After months, then years, of trying, he had come to accept that no matter how badly he wanted to be in control, life would always have another plan. Because he’d really tried - he’d tried starting with a small cup, in the morning. He’d tried sweeteners, flavors, different types of milk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d even tried drinking it from the mug his daughter had made him four years ago, but nothing could change the fact that he hated coffee and wanted nothing to do with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, Sakusa had been wrong. Four years after they all moved in together, he still wasn’t a coffee drinker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the rest, he’d been right about. Atsumu absolutely did bully himself into PTA meetings and impress his opinions onto all the other parents. The three of them were living, happily ever after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t to say there weren’t problems. Of course there were. But they were all manageable, normal, life problems. Not matters of life and death, or things that could tear them apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, Sakusa thought, as he pulled Atsumu’s dirty socks off the counter, opened the fridge to find an empty milk carton somebody had left on the shelf, and rinsed the sink of the errant noodles from last night’s dinner, sometimes he’d rather be out killing people again instead of dealing with the repetitive, inane messes the other two left that they could </span>
  <em>
    <span>easily have -</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa froze, sponge in guilty hand over the same spot in the sink he’d been working over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning, he saw Yuki standing blearily in the hallway, eyes mostly-closed and hair in a riot - red strands stuck out in a poof around her face and reached towards the ceiling. It was impressive. Atlas stood beside her, looking equally barely-awake. It had taken him approximately two days, after they’d all moved into this rooftop house, to decide Yuki was his favorite. Now he followed her around the house, content to doze wherever she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Sakusa replied, wringing the sponge and setting it near the faucet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya were mumbling about cleaning again. It’s really not that bad, ya know. Mina’s house is </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>worse. Ya should see her room, you’d probably die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wrinkled his nose. Just because Yuki’s friend lived in a sty, didn’t mean - he took a deep breath and looked around. Yes, okay, it was mostly clean. And he’d come to accept that Atsumu would probably never learn to put his dirty socks anywhere but the counter, which Sakusa had stopped trying to understand. Yuki was right, it was fine. It was clean, even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She came and ducked under his arm to wrap him in a side hug. He dropped a kiss to the top of her reddish tangle of hair. She had grown, was probably considered tall, but still seemed short compared to her dads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning scene was familiar. Yuki curled up on the couch with Atlas, bathed in the sunlight that drifted through the open window and tried to do the Sunday crossword from the day before. She occasionally called out questions, and Sakusa would help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had been wrong about becoming a coffee drinker, but Atsumu didn’t have to know that. Sakusa brewed it, then poured a third of the Moka pot right down the drain, miming for Yuki to keep her mouth shut. She laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An over-caffeinated Atsumu was a nightmare, and it was in everybody’s best interest that he wasn’t allowed to drink the whole pot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Sakusa was almost done with breakfast, Atsumu stumbled out of their bedroom to wrap him in a hug from behind. He started with a kiss low on the back of Sakusa’s neck. Then another, higher up, and a trail of kisses that ended under his ear while Atsumu’s hands drifted dangerously close to Sakusa’s crotch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dads, ew,” Yuki yelled, lifting the newspaper so it blocked her vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look then, ya perv,” Atsumu called back, and the two of them laughed while she humphed and turned the other way on the couch. Atsumu slipped his cold hands under Sakusa’s shirt and played with the skin over his abs. Some days, Sakusa got stressed about the way his body was changing, and the way the muscles he used to work so hard for were fading under a healthier distribution of fat. Other days, he didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pinched the hand that was slapping his belly until it stopped and Atsumu whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that they weren’t still fit - they were, because Iwaizumi ran a hard schedule at the gym and Atsumu and Sakusa still needed to be strong for their jobs as bounty hunters. It was just that now, they had both hit their thirties and their youthful bodies were getting some extra padding. It was fine, Sakusa was coming to terms with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuki put away her newspaper (that Atsumu still teased her for even getting a subscription for) while they ate, then dashed to her room to get ready for school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu cleaned up after breakfast, and Sakusa didn’t even double-check the dishes when he was done. That was progress, considering it had taken them months for Sakusa to trust that Atsumu knew how to clean anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Atsumu did that, Sakusa wandered out the door to the roof. Even though the sun was up, the chill of autumn was sharp in the air. He shivered a little, under the freckled shade of the leaves above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The project that he and Akaashi had started four years ago was still alive and strong. Vines grew up the rails on the edge of the roof, over a trellis above him so that the area was comfortably shaded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between concrete paths, they’d lain dirt and mulch and planted seeds until the whole area was carpeted in woolly thyme and little flowers. A large hammock hung in one corner, far from the door. In the other farther corner, a wooden table and chairs were warming in the weak sunlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under some of the darker shade, up against the window to the living room, Sakusa saw a flicker of light. Bending, he watched the tiny glowing jellies float, weightless, around the woody base of a grape vine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through the glass, Sakusa heard a knock sound at the door, and the sound of Atsumu greeting Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any coffee left?” he heard Kuroo ask, muffled through the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, but I can make more real quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, that’d be great. Thanks bro.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was bad. Sakusa hoped Atsumu would give Kuroo the whole pot rather than helping himself to a second cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Sakusa,” Kuroo called, when Sakusa ducked back inside, the jellies fading from his mind as quickly as they’d come. The smell of the thyme still clung to his nostrils.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Kuroo. Yuki’s in the shower, but she’ll be out soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough time for more coffee!” Atsumu grinned brightly at Sakusa, who held in a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had turned out that Kuroo, other than being an excellent vigilante, had actually graduated college with a dual degree in chemistry and physics (by which Sakusa was begrudgingly impressed) and was now teaching high school science classes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had heard, on more than one occasion, that Kuroo could be doing bigger and better things with his mind and education. (From Akaashi, whose eyes still sparkled every time he talked about his boyfriends). Privately, Sakusa thought Kuroo was perfectly happy teaching the basics to a bunch of kids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a relaxed air to him now, and his face was set in a near-constant smirk. He was healthy, and brimming with energy. It was a far cry from the hollow, gaunt, grim man Sakusa had met four years ago. So regardless of what he was doing, it was nice to see him so happy. At the very least, his job at the high school meant he could pick up Yuki every morning and they could walk each other to class.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Kuroo was thanking Atsumu for the coffee (complete with the Hello Kitty thermos Yuki had bought Atsumu as a joke that he unironically liked and used all the time), Yuki was fist-bumping them both goodbye like a loser (Sakusa needed to make sure Atsumu didn’t narrate his thoughts too often) and the sound was fading, it was just him and his partner in the kitchen, and Sakusa was happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment was quiet. “Kuroo seems good these days, huh?” Atsumu asked, and the apartment was no longer quiet for it but Sakusa didn’t mind. He hadn’t minded Atsumu’s loudness in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm. I’m glad those four found each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’almost weird how well they fit, though, dontcha think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa thought about it, as he crossed the kitchen to grasp Atsumu’s hand and use it to pull him closer so he could wrap him in a hug. Something about the morning was making him extra affectionate, and he liked it. “I think it’s just luck,” he answered. “Gods know Kuroo and Kenma needed it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu made an agreeing noise and pulled slightly back from the loose hug to bump his face into Sakusa’s clumsily, missing once before connecting their lips in a sweet kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, it didn’t taste sweet - it tasted like coffee, which Sakusa only tolerated on Atsumu’s tongue and nowhere else these days. Atsumu’s hands tangled in the back of Sakusa’s hair and he angled his head to slip his mouth into Sakusa’s mouth again, spreading that bitter tang that Sakusa had accidentally grown to like when it came from Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu walked Sakusa backwards until he bumped into the counter, kissing him harder and rolling his hips insistently into Sakusa’s. “It’s like that, huh?” Sakusa mumbled into his mouth, then felt Atsumu’s lips quirk into a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s like that. I’m horny, please fix it,” Atsumu joked, but another roll of his hips drove his point home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only because you said please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scoffed, and he was right to, because it had been a long time since Sakusa had denied him anything and he wasn’t about to start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu led him to the couch and stripped. He didn’t make a show of it, but Sakusa still felt his blood heating with every strip of skin he revealed, until Atsumu was naked and impatient and Sakusa got to work on his own clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu turned away from him, winked over his shoulder, and bent over the arm of the couch. Sakusa’s brain left his body for a second because there, in between his cheeks, was the base of a plug Sakusa had had no clue he’d been wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he whispered. He swallowed, approaching Atsumu and letting his fingers be the first contact, tracing the edges of the plug before tugging it slightly, making Atsumu groan impatiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been planning on a slow fuck, a morning fuck, a lazy-sweet declaration. This, though. This made his cock throb and his hands twitch and he didn’t want to go slow anymore - especially when Atsumu slapped his own ass and turned to smirk at him, saying, “What are ya waitin’ for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he sure as hell didn’t wait any longer. In what couldn’t have taken more than a moment, he’d slipped the plug out carefully, coated his aching cock with the lube Atsumu had apparently brought with him, and sunk inside Atsumu’s unresisting body with a groan he matched with one of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was fast and harsh after that - Sakusa started with one hand on Atsumu’s hip to yank him back onto his cock and the other splayed over his lower back, keeping him arched. Atsumu was making punched out noises with every thrust, and the slap of their skin was so loud Sakusa would have been worried if they’d had neighbors on either side. They didn’t, though, so Atsumu got as loud as he wanted and Sakusa told him how pretty he was, how well he was taking it, how good he felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he knew he was close, he slid one hand to Atsumu’s hair and gripped it tight, yanking his head back and using it to pull him even harder into every thrust. Atsumu’s noises were louder like that, his head tilted back and his mouth open obscenely. Sakusa came like that, using Atsumu’s body to get himself off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to pull out and suck Atsumu’s dick, but Atsumu’s hand flew back to keep him close as he said, “Wait wait, stay there, I just gotta,” and then he was jerking himself quickly, clenching tight around Sakusa’s spent dick, and coming into his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole thing was quick and hard, but tenderness replaced it as Sakusa cleaned him up with a warm, wet washcloth, dropped it on the floor, and lay down on the couch. He tugged Atsumu down after him, who made himself comfortable as a floppy pile of limbs on top of Sakusa, wiggling until their legs were entwined and his head came just below Sakusa’s chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shifted in Sakusa’s arms, their naked bodies still cooling down. The fact that they were clean was the only reason Sakusa was able to actually relax, knowing no come was going to stick their happy trails together. Sakusa craned his neck to press a gentle kiss to Atsumu’s hair, then relaxed back again. Atsumu hummed, reciprocating the kiss on Sakusa’s collar bone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The windows in the living room took up the whole wall. The lower ones were covered, on the other side, with dark vines and heavy leaves and murky shadows. Every once in a while, a glowing jelly would press too close to the glass as it floated by, giving the whole room an ethereal, pale, watery light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Higher up, halfway up the tall windows, the upper leaves strained towards the sun. A robin had built a nest there, and Sakusa could hear the babies making a racket even through the windows. Higher still, the midday sun filtered through the windows into the living room, cooling the spots of shade and filling the whole room with yellow light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Southern windows, Sakusa smiled at himself, were the best. Hands down. Even Atsumu thought so, now that he knew which way south was. Atsumu suddenly snorted himself awake again, blinking the sleep from his confused eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa kept watching the leaves outside, saw a butterfly sun its wings on a broad vine before taking off again, and enjoyed how solid Atsumu’s body was on top of his own. He could feel both of their heartbeats, and his hand was smoothing over Atsumu’s back. It stilled when Atsumu woke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shifted on top of him, pushing forward to mouth at Sakusa’s shoulder. Then he bit, hard, and Sakusa hissed a breath through his teeth but didn’t complain, because Atsumu was licking where he’d bitten with a gentle tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved higher up, sucking a bruise into Sakusa’s collar bone, and Sakusa couldn’t help the way it had his cock filling again. Atsumu’s own arousal was pressing into his hip, and Sakusa wasn’t sure if he wanted to go another round so soon, but this lazy sexuality felt good. Like sitting in a patch of warm sun, like taking a cozy nap, like hugging an old friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu,” he warned, when his partner sucked a bruise on his neck that was too high to hide even with a turtleneck. Atsumu chuckled, uncaring, and Sakusa pinched his hip which had him wriggling away just barely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu kept up his lazy attempts at consuming Sakusa. He nipped at his jaw, mouthed the soft skin of his neck, moved up to kiss him on the mouth, sucked his lip then licked inside and coaxed Sakusa’s tongue out so he could suck on that, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Atsumu was rocking back and forth on Sakusa’s hard dick, he’d changed his mind about a second round. It was easy, propping up his hardness so Atsumu could spread lube over him again and sink down with a pleased sigh, fitting them together so it felt like they belonged like that, tied, as close as they could possibly get to one another. Like the world would pause, just for this, and they could take as long as they wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods,” Sakusa breathed, his hands gripping Atsumu’s hips. His head tipped back and his eyes drifted closed. It felt good, as good as it always did, and he was almost oversensitized from his earlier orgasm, but not enough to do anything but lift his hips when Atsumu came down, and use his hands on Atsumu’s hips to grind as deep as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuki would be so grossed out if she ever knew we fucked on the couch,” Atsumu huffed, and Sakusa slapped a hand over Atsumu’s huge mouth, which did nothing to stop the slow way Atsumu was riding him, but did everything to make him shut the fuck up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t mention Yuki during sex, ever again.” Sakusa’s words came out more like pants, and it was hard to have a conversation while he could feel Atsumu tight around him, sliding up and down, down, down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmmffnmflm.” Atsumu pried Sakusa’s hand off. “She would, though. She uses the couch the most.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please shut up. I’m going to clean it, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop talking.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu opened his fat mouth like he had no such intention, so Sakusa did what he hoped would actually get him to stop talking. In one fast move he surged forward, picking Atsumu up and shoving him back so the curve of his spine met the high arm of the couch. Kneeling, Sakusa gripped the underside of Atsumu’s thigh in one hand and held it up, forcing Atsumu’s knee up and his chest back, arching beautifully over the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Atsumu yelped, but Sakusa cut him off with a hard thrust, knocking Atsumu’s breath from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was more like it - Atsumu was powerless to move, pinned by Sakusa’s hips and by the hand under this thigh, and all he could do was take it as Sakusa fucked him hard enough that the only sounds falling from his mouth were moans and gasps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa knew the day would come when they wouldn’t be able to go two rounds in a row, wouldn’t even want to, but he was glad it hadn’t come yet. Because the light was glistening a thousand ways off the clean sweat on Atsumu’s neck and the skin of his collarbones, his eyes were pinched in bliss, his thigh was trembling under Sakusa’s firm hand, and his hands wrapped around Sakusa’s neck as he came with a shout over his abs, and Sakusa loved him so much it hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t known his love could grow every day, that the dazzling pink of being freshly in love would be replaced with a slow, deep, inevitability that felt like how rivers find their course over so much terrain, like he was choosing Atsumu every second of every day and wouldn’t stop as long as he lived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came, moments later, Atsumu was clinging to him with tight hands, curled tight to bury his face in Sakusa’s neck, ankles locked tight around his waist. He came, and he marveled that two people could have sex for so many years and never get tired of it. He brought his hands up to cradle Atsumu in return and felt his heart throb to the knowledge that Atsumu was brash, annoying, rude, too energetic, inconsiderate, and none of those things had bothered him for years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was less happy when they cleaned up and left for their job, but that was the way of things. First, he wiped the entire couch down with sanitizing wipes even though they hadn’t even gotten come on it and then threw the used wipes at Atsumu’s face for laughing at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was supposed to be an easy job, just finding someone who had missed his appointment with his parole officer (three times).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and Atsumu took less dangerous jobs, these days. They weren’t after the same adrenaline rush of danger, the highs of life-or-death situations. And they had enough money that they didn’t need the higher-paying jobs, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was a lot of dragging some person in for cyber crimes or for skipping their court date for negotiating child support payments. It wasn’t as exciting, but it wasn’t as dangerous, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they got to do it together, which was what really mattered. It had been rough at first, both of them hyper-sensitive to each other’s mortality. The first time Atsumu had had a gun drawn on him after resuming work, Sakusa had been on edge all week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time Sakusa got injured enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, Atsumu had spent the night curled up in the bathtub in a panic attack that had taken Sakusa hours to bring him down from. But they’d figured it out, eventually, and now worked together better than they ever had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It helped that they knew they had Yuki to come home to - it kept them from taking the sketchier jobs, the ones they would have taken before and muddled their way through mostly-intact. Sakusa kind of hated how boring his job had become. He kind of loved it, too, for the assurance it gave him about the safety of his family.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They got home after Yuki, and Sakusa felt foul. What had supposed to be a simple find-the-guy had turned into a burning trash-fire of awfulness. Turns out the man in question had been living in </span>
  <em>
    <span>(in, mind you) </span>
  </em>
  <span>a landfill. He’d dug tunnels through the trash, which Sakusa and Atsumu had had to crawl through, that led to a rather sizable trash-cave the man had been living in for some months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was disgusting; they both smelled like trash and decaying animals, and Sakusa couldn’t tell if he was more bothered by the mess on his own body or that Atsumu wasn’t that bothered about the mess on his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally, what took you losers so long?!” Yuki called as they opened the door, “We’re gonna be late for dinner!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, when she saw the look of death on Sakusa’s face and the horror in his eyes and limp hair, she winced. “Fuck, ya both smell horrible,” she said in a nasally voice, pinching her nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell them we’ll be late,” he ground out, then dragged Atsumu to the shower with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took them over an hour of strictly-business washing to feel clean enough to get back out, by which time Yuki was yelling at him from the other side of the house (easy, because of his fae hearing) to hurry his ass up, which he didn’t much appreciate considering he’d been pacing his breathing for two hours to avoid panicking about how dirty he was and she could probably wait another twenty -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” Atsumu said, coming up behind him where he stood frozen in front of their closet. “All clean, remember?” he reminded Sakusa, then pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said, trying to focus on how clean he now was instead of how dirty he had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We even smell good,” Atsumu continued, butting his wet hair against Sakusa’s face to prove it. Lavender, because Sakusa was the one who insisted on fancy products. Atsumu ended up picking out Sakusa’s clothes for him and then shuffling him out the door, with Yuki, down the icky hallway and into the sketchy elevator that somewhat worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only when Sakusa was back outside, enveloped in the twilight and the breath of cold night air, with one hand in Atsumu’s, following Yuki’s excited footsteps, that he felt his mind return to his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oof,” he murmured, and Atsumu cracked a sincere smile at him. He lifted their hands to his mouth and kissed the back of Sakusa’s, which had never failed to make Sakusa’s heart warm after all these years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yoooooooo,” Yuki yelled, throwing open the door without so much as a knock. They had left Atlas at home, because he and Suna couldn’t stand to be in the same room (they had all, out of respect for Suna, agreed to never mention the outcome of their first meeting again).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Yuki, good to see you, welcome, please come in,” Suna drawled, but she ignored it in favor of tackling him in a fierce, quick hug that made him crack a smile, before zooming off to find Osamu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey guys,” Suna greeted more sincerely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sup,” Atsumu said, and Sakusa still found him embarrassing to be around even after being with him for so long. Sakusa made eye contact with Suna over Atsumu’s head, and Suna smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heard you guys had a rough job?” Suna asked, leading them further into the apartment once they’d left their shoes by the door. Sakusa had a feeling Yuki had been more detailed (and rude) in her description of why they were late, but he appreciated Suna not being a dick about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Atsumu answered for them, “the guy lived in a literal landfill, we had to crawl through it like rats.” He made a retching sound, and Suna chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well did it make ya hungry, by chance?” Osamu joked, trying to finish putting dinner onto plates while Yuki clung to his back. He only looked like he was choking a little bit, so Sakusa figured he didn’t have to step in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’d have to be dead to not want to eat your food, Osamu,” Sakusa assured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah unless it’s onigiri, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuki complained, which was ridiculous because Osamu’s onigiri was legendary (Sakusa had had to listen to Akaashi wax poetic about Osamu’s onigiri too many times to count).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu didn’t look bothered, just laughed. They all knew the only reason Yuki complained about onigiri was because she’d gone through a phase where she was so obsessed with it she bullied Osamu into making her onigiri multiple times a week until the sight of it made her sick. That was on her, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Suna,” Yuki piped up, slipping off Osamu’s back. Suna groaned in anticipation of whatever she was about to say, but it was good-natured. “I can’t find that dog toy we gotcha, did ya chew it up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna buried his face in his hands and didn’t answer. Yuki had to stretch really high to pat his shoulder condescendly, but she managed it. “Don’t worry don’t worry, we’ll getcha a new one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu snorted, loudly, and Atsumu burst out laughing. Sakusa himself tried, but failed, not to join in. Making fun of Suna’s fox self would probably never get old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they were all sat at the table, Osamu cleared his throat. Atsumu paused with his first bite halfway to his mouth. He shrugged at Sakusa when they made eye contact. Yuki was bouncing in her seat a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu cleared his throat again, and Suna sent him a bland look before huffing and saying, “We’re getting married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu made a dying noise when Osamu and Suna lifted their left hands to reveal matching thin silver bands and matching smiles (smirks, but happy ones).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations,” Sakusa said, right as Yuki shouted, “Took ya long enough!! I’ve been tellin’ Suna to propose fer like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>years.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu looked like his brain had shut off, but was coming back online. “Aren’t ya supposed to get rings after yer married, not before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is for the engagement, we’re getting identical ones for wedding bands; we’ll each have two little stacking rings.” Suna reached over to touch Osamu’s ring with the tip of one finger, eyes soft, and Sakusa suddenly felt like he was intruding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, fuck,” Atsumu said, face crumpling a little, “I’m so happy for ya guys.” He sniffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you crying?” Suna asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” But Atsumu’s voice sounded thick. “Ya’ve just been together fer so long and I’m happy fer ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu wiggled a little bit in his seat, a smile stretching across his face, wider than before. It looked like they cared about Atsumu’s reaction more than they’d let on, and it was sweet to watch the brothers interact in a nice way for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe ya didn’t tell me sooner though, what the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu held out his hands in a placating motion. “Okay, if I’d been the one askin’, ya know I woulda told ya. Don’t look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu whipped a napkin at Suna, which hit him in the face. “Yer supposed to ask a brother these things, Suna! For shame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suna was laughing though, not guilty in the slightest. “I talked to Yuki about it,” he admitted, and Yuki screeched in laughter, finally dropping her attempt at a stoic face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him he could marry uncle if he treats him right forever,” Yuki laughed, and Sakusa could practically see Atsumu deciding whether that should make him more or less angry. He decided on less, and let out an explosive sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Fine! That’s totally fine. I don’t even care.” He was pouting, but the corner of his lips tugged up in a smile he couldn’t keep down. The rest of the evening was easy, because Suna and Osamu were easy to be around, especially when their sharper sides were put away for the night in favor of the giddiness they so clearly felt for each other and their future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they finally left, Sakusa’s face was aching lightly from all the smiling he’d done. Yuki tackled Atsumu and he piggybacked her home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t sure they were ever gonna get married,” Atsumu remarked, as they made their way through the back alleys to their building. It was colder, the stones sapping the warmth from the air, and the stars were invisible overhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve been together fer so long. I kinda figured if they were gonna get hitched, they’da done it by now. We’re thirty, Omi, most of the people I knew when we were kids are already married with kids ‘n shit.” Sakusa wasn’t sure, but he felt like there was something else bothering Atsumu. Something beyond what he was saying, but he didn’t know how to ask him about it. Even after four years, Sakusa sometimes found it hard to communicate well - but he’d improved, a lot, and their relationship was better for it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, when they were in bed, Sakusa still didn’t know how to bring it up. So he didn’t, trusting Atsumu to bring it up if it mattered enough. Instead, he lay there in the dark listening to Atsumu’s sleep-slow breaths and thought about Suna and Osamu, and Yuki, and Atsumu. He thought about the stars above, and the time they’d taken Yuki to see a meteor shower from the top of a water tower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about his own life, how soft he’d become, how he didn’t regret one minute of it. He thought about waking up next to Atsumu again tomorrow, and every day for the rest of his life. They were both on their backs, until Sakusa rolled over to press his front into Atsumu’s sleeping form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he said softly, nosing into Atsumu’s neck. His fingers trailed slowly over Atsumu’s arm, under the hiked-up edge of his sleep shirt, then over his smooth ribs. Atsumu’s skin was warm under his fingertips, and soft. He traced the dips of his muscles. He could feel Atsumu’s heart beating slowly under his palm. “Hey, Atsumu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hnng?” He clicked his tongue and Sakusa felt his head stir slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should get married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stiffened under him, then sat up halfway, turned, and propped himself up on one elbow. He had gone from zero to a hundred very quickly, eyes sharp and mouth firm. Was it a bad suggestion? Sakusa had figured Atsumu would be excited, rather than immediately irritated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu narrowed his eyes further. “Just like that? Yer not even gonna propose?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa winced, “We should, though. Get married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scoffed. “I know we should! My issue is that you just woke me up and mumbled it in my face, just ‘oh, uh, I guess we could get married.’ Like no shit. But ya coulda made it more romantic, ya prick. Ya heard what Suna did - the treasure hunt, the notes, the whole speech about - wait, what are ya - why are ya laughin’?!” Atsumu pouted, his expression turning from irritation to hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa couldn’t help it, though. “I didn’t know you wanted Suna to propose to you, Atsumu. This whole time,” Sakusa laughed, “You can tell me if you’re in love with him, I can take it.” Sakusa was wheezing now, his whole body shaking, and Atsumu’s face twisted up in indignation and he smacked Sakusa lightly, then shoved him, and when that didn’t make him stop laughing, he shoved him harder until he fell off their bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even then, he just collapsed on the ground until his laughter finally subsided. When he finally got back up, it was to the sight of Atsumu sulking, facing away, the comforter tucked up to his chin. “Yer such an ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, baby, it was kind of funny,” Sakusa tried, crawling back into bed. Atsumu stayed rigid when Sakusa reached over to wiggle his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realizing he wasn’t going to get out of it without some extra communication, (ew), Sakusa lay back with his arms behind his head and took a deep breath. Fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know how I feel about marriage,” he started, and Atsumu was still but he had a feeling he was listening. “It’s an outdated tradition with sketchy roots, it makes people idealize romantic couplings as the ultimate relationship as opposed to poly or platonic relationships, it’s stupid that people have to get married to enjoy certain social and economic benefits…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sniffed, loudly, but Sakusa was suspicious that it was more for dramatic effect than because he was actually upset enough to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa rolled over, wrapping his partner in his strong arms, and nuzzled his face into Atsumu’s neck. “I just have an issue with the institution of marriage. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to marry you.” He squeezed. “I want to be your husband, and I want you to be mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sniffed again, quieter, and relaxed a little in Sakusa’s hold. “I would be a great husband,” he whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yer not off the hook fer that shitty proposal, though. I’m makin’ ya propose again. Properly this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had to try not to laugh again, worried he’d upset Atsumu further. “Why can’t you propose?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu twisted around in his arms. “Well maybe I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna, </span>
  </em>
  <span>until </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>fuckin’ ruined it! Now it’s gotta be you.” He turned back around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, oops. Sakusa felt his cheeks heat. They had talked about marriage before, as most serious couples do, but it had all been hypothetical - talk of the future. He hadn’t realized Atsumu might have had a plan, might have wanted all the fanfare that Sakusa was trying to avoid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Atsumu let out a pained groan. “Fuck, I can’t believe my stupid brother beat me to it. Fuck.” That time, Sakusa couldn’t help but laugh at him again. His rivalry with Osamu was hilariously competitive and ridiculous; Atsumu had been comparing his life to his brother’s since before Sakusa had come around, and it likely wasn’t going to stop any time soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu turned over in his arms again, tilting his red face up to Sakusa. “Wait, does this mean ya don’t want a ceremony ‘n shit?” It wasn’t hard to pick up on the worry in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The truth was, Sakusa didn’t care about all that. Having Atsumu was enough for him, having a family with Atsumu and Yuki was all Sakusa needed. He had everything he’d ever even thought to want, he didn’t see why they had to add marriage and a wedding on top of that - other than to make Atsumu Yuki’s legal father, and for the tax benefits. He winced, unwilling to say the words, but Atsumu caught it and his face fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we make a deal?” Sakusa asked, trying to think of ways to not disappoint Atsumu without compromising his own political views of marriage and personal views on gratuitous parties. Atsumu hummed, curious. “What if we get courthouse married, and have a big party to celebrate. It won’t be a wedding, exactly, but that way we can still have that part?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyebrows drew close together as he thought, his lips pursing together. He brightened. “Fine, but I get to plan it.” Which meant it would be flashy, and extravagant, and tasteless, and perfect. Sakusa supposed he was willing to suffer through one over-the-top party if it meant he could be legally bound to Atsumu for the rest of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really was lucky, he thought as they drifted off to sleep. He felt Atsumu’s lips press against his own, and a whisper of thanks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No; thank you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wanted to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>for everything - for loving me, for enduring my personality, for letting me have you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but his mind was already gone, dreaming of nothing he wasn’t already holding in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Two weeks later, they were chasing someone on foot through downtown, which was ridiculous in and of itself, when Sakusa stopped short. “Atsumu!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? He’s gettin’ away, Omi, whaddaya want.” Sakusa’s shirt was sticking to his back with sweat, his lungs were burning, and Atsumu was radiant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get married.” He gestured to his side, where the ancient courthouse was looming to cast a shadow across the sidewalk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu started turning away, “We’ve already had this conversation Omi, didja hit yer head? C’mon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean. Right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stomped up to him. “No! Fuck you, ya can’t do this again! We’re gonna plan it, we’re gonna dress up, we’re gonna make Oikawa take pictures. Let’s fuckin’ go, he’s way up there now.” As he ran away, Omi heard the wind carry his mutters of </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuckin’ asshole, askin’ me outta the blue. Least romantic guy I’ve ever known. Asshole. Asshole, asshole, yer such an asshole, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and then Sakusa was laughing too hard to hear the rest as he picked his feet up and ran, fast as he could, after Atsumu.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>DAMN GUYS.</p><p>A couple end notes: <br/>1) part of me was like ew, marriage, so tropey and overused and normative but the rest of me was like hear me out-<br/>so tell me what you thought!<br/>2) I have multiple sequels planned, in no particular order, which will focus on the following ships: Kyouhaba, Osasuna, Bokuakakuroken (possible future Iwaoi and Yumikuri)<br/>3) my tumblr is rueshe if anyone wants to come chat! im v nice i promise. come bother me about fandom shit</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>